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 Congo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Leaves,
Neil Young,
Suicide,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pylon,
Sarah Menescal,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Golliwogs,
Black Bananas,
Kenny Larkin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Absolute Body Control,
Talk Talk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Circle Jerks,
The Wake,
Sight & Sound,
Clear Light,
Derrick May,
Zero Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Count Five,
Goldenarms,
Matthew Halsall,
The Martian,
Eric Copeland,
the Association,
Kaleidoscope,
Kurtis Blow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Todd Terry,
Connie Case,
Tears for Fears,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fad Gadget,
Can,
Neu!,
Davy DMX,
Little Man,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Negative Approach,
The Fall,
Judy Mowatt,
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
The Barracudas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Quadrant,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.