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 Benin and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Blancmange to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultra Naté,
Gastr Del Sol,
Royal Trux,
The Last Poets,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Warren Ellis,
Loose Ends,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Faust,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flipper,
Stereo Dub,
Con Funk Shun,
The Searchers,
Aswad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neu!,
The Barracudas,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ponytail,
New Order,
The Dirtbombs,
Boredoms,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABBA,
Piero Umiliani,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hoover,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Leaves,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Kinks,
D'Angelo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Soft Machine,
Visage,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glenn Branca,
Sandy B,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
Lungfish,
Babytalk,
The Residents,
Section 25,
Y Pants,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.