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 Ivory Coast and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nico to the dance 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deakin,
Gichy Dan,
Desert Stars,
Crime,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
U.S. Maple,
The Mummies,
The Motions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Byron Stingily,
The Happenings,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bizarre Inc.,
Derrick Morgan,
Section 25,
Underground Resistance,
T.S.O.L.,
Cybotron,
New Order,
Sonic Youth,
Alphaville,
Sun Ra,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Vogues,
Nico,
The Raincoats,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
DJ Style,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ossler,
Quando Quango,
Yusef Lateef,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Neon Judgement,
Michelle Simonal,
Anakelly,
Excepter,
Skriet,
Aloha Tigers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pylon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Suburban Knight,
Little Man,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.