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 Haiti and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Man Eating Sloth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Slits,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Anakelly,
Yaz,
Bobby Sherman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Copeland,
Faraquet,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
The Wake,
The Birthday Party,
Scion,
Curtis Mayfield,
Michelle Simonal,
Radiopuhelimet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cowsills,
Albert Ayler,
Donald Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Marmalade,
the Human League,
Vainqueur,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Germs,
Black Bananas,
the Fania All-Stars,
June Days,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonic Youth,
Groovy Waters,
Sam Rivers,
Sarah Menescal,
The Index,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Subhumans,
These Immortal Souls,
Saccharine Trust,
New York Dolls,
The Standells,
The J.B.'s,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
Absolute Body Control,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joe Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Halsall,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.