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 Rwanda and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 Mo-Dettes to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Alice Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
The United States of America,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
a-ha,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eddi Front,
Minutemen,
The Red Krayola,
Minny Pops,
Ituana,
Radiohead,
Basic Channel,
Mantronix,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gabor Szabo,
Fat Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Technova,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Smog,
Livin' Joy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Supertramp,
Jacob Miller,
Donald Byrd,
the Germs,
Roxette,
Youth Brigade,
Fela Kuti,
Bronski Beat,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nas,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Chrome,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Busters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Susan Cadogan,
Neil Young,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
Archie Shepp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Talk Talk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Letta Mbulu,
Eden Ahbez,
EPMD,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.