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 Italy and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Germs,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun City Girls,
Pagans,
Colin Newman,
Joyce Sims,
Boz Scaggs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fatback Band,
Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monks,
Infiniti,
the Human League,
Sällskapet,
Stetsasonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Fraelich,
Wolf Eyes,
Inner City,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Holt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mark Hollis,
James White and The Blacks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Human League,
Amazonics,
Mantronix,
Maleditus Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Halsall,
The Golliwogs,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Interpol,
Joey Negro,
The Remains,
The Leaves,
Barbara Tucker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Television,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
The Skatalites,
The Residents,
Can,
The Names,
Hardrive,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suicide,
the Sonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Copeland,
Delta 5,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marvin Gaye,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.