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 Mongolia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Toni Rubio,
Con Funk Shun,
48th St. Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Neon Judgement,
Khruangbin,
the Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
The Golliwogs,
Wings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
Gang of Four,
Depeche Mode,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cramps,
Quando Quango,
Eurythmics,
Jawbox,
Yusef Lateef,
Second Layer,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swell Maps,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Görl,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Christie,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marmalade,
Black Moon,
Nas,
Connie Case,
Robert Wyatt,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rufus Thomas,
Chrome,
the Association,
Soul II Soul,
Audionom,
Peter & Gordon,
The Remains,
Ronnie Foster,
Liliput,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Scion,
Organ,
Qualms,
the Bar-Kays,
DJ Style,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.