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 East Timor and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Donald Fagen 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 Depeche Mode to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scientists,
Lalo Schifrin,
New York Dolls,
Skriet,
Vainqueur,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Blancmange,
Godley & Creme,
June of 44,
The Dead C,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dawn Penn,
Sonic Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Teasers,
John Holt,
The Dirtbombs,
Absolute Body Control,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Subhumans,
Parry Music,
The Durutti Column,
Hot Snakes,
Quando Quango,
The Cure,
Ken Boothe,
Joey Negro,
10cc,
CMW,
Dark Day,
Derrick Morgan,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Matthew Bourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rakim,
The Victims,
Young Marble Giants,
The Monochrome Set,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
Sexual Harrassment,
Buzzcocks,
The Wake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Zero Boys,
The Cowsills,
Maurizio,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.