Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Maldives and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mantronix to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Gladiators,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacques Brel,
Roxy Music,
Bronski Beat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joensuu 1685,
Procol Harum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
Desert Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
The Happenings,
Erasure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
Donald Byrd,
Das Ding,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
The Cowsills,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Japan,
Electric Prunes,
Ludus,
The Raincoats,
Minnie Riperton,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Lydon,
Excepter,
Moebius,
Maleditus Sound,
Duran Duran,
The Skatalites,
Wally Richardson,
Depeche Mode,
Talk Talk,
Skaos,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Terry Callier,
Con Funk Shun,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cybotron,
Joey Negro,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The New Christs,
Lindisfarne,
Suicide,
The Angels of Light,
Alton Ellis,
Monolake,
Cheater Slicks,
Byron Stingily,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.