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 Turkmenistan and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Anakelly to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Gang Starr,
Joensuu 1685,
Q65,
Terry Callier,
Icehouse,
Surgeon,
the Germs,
Leonard Cohen,
Henry Cow,
Amazonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris Corsano,
The Vogues,
Davy DMX,
Nils Olav,
Funkadelic,
Goldenarms,
The Victims,
Amon Düül II,
The Pop Group,
Silicon Teens,
Soulsonic Force,
Susan Cadogan,
Fat Boys,
Minor Threat,
Soft Cell,
Scan 7,
The Beau Brummels,
Kayak,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
Niagra,
Lou Reed,
Ludus,
Albert Ayler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blossom Toes,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gladiators,
H. Thieme,
Hoover,
the Soft Cell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeff Mills,
Wasted Youth,
X-102,
The Dave Clark Five,
AZ,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.