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 Djibouti and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Remains to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Selecter,
Cameo,
La Düsseldorf,
Carl Craig,
Parry Music,
Urselle,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Con Funk Shun,
Lyres,
X-Ray Spex,
Pole,
Reagan Youth,
H. Thieme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bush Tetras,
Fatback Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Talk Talk,
Theoretical Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry's Kids,
EPMD,
The Moleskins,
Pere Ubu,
Cluster,
The Happenings,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DNA,
The Modern Lovers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Niagra,
Max Romeo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minutemen,
Leonard Cohen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joy Division,
LL Cool J,
Rekid,
Gang Green,
Symarip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Section 25,
Davy DMX,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Bowie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronan,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.