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 United States and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alarm Clocks to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Donald Byrd,
R.M.O.,
EPMD,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wasted Youth,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
Josef K,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tim Buckley,
The Pretty Things,
Subhumans,
The Stooges,
Outsiders,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland,
Colin Newman,
Terry Callier,
Minny Pops,
Pierre Henry,
The Slits,
The Smoke,
The Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
cv313,
Cecil Taylor,
Grauzone,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter and Kerry,
Banda Bassotti,
Unrelated Segments,
Masters at Work,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
The Red Krayola,
Rosa Yemen,
Scion,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy Collins,
Glenn Branca,
Babytalk,
The Divine Comedy,
Wolf Eyes,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
DJ Style,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Make Up,
Sun City Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
ABBA,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.