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 Indonesia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 John Holt to the rap 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Cluster,
Pere Ubu,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
Davy DMX,
The Velvet Underground,
Eurythmics,
Drexciya,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
These Immortal Souls,
Wire,
Toni Rubio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
The Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mantronix,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
The Real Kids,
Mars,
Pulsallama,
Newcleus,
Parry Music,
Gong,
Man Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Patti Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Maleditus Sound,
David Bowie,
The Zeros,
Blake Baxter,
The Names,
Nils Olav,
Eddi Front,
Soft Machine,
Graham Central Station,
Sister Nancy,
Alton Ellis,
Groovy Waters,
Swell Maps,
Bill Near,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deepchord,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
John Holt,
New Age Steppers,
Steve Hackett,
R.M.O.,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonic Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Cymande,
Pussy Galore,
Kayak,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.