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 Chile and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba 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 Moebius to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Camberwell Now,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Velvet Underground,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Icehouse,
Rites of Spring,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
Panda Bear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
Visage,
Kayak,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Bowie,
Scrapy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tears for Fears,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul II Soul,
The Walker Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mummies,
Whodini,
Niagra,
Dual Sessions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Standells,
Mr. Review,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Masters at Work,
Reuben Wilson,
8 Eyed Spy,
These Immortal Souls,
Vainqueur,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Magazine,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.