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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 Camouflage to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon 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?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Holt,
Ponytail,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brand Nubian,
Television,
Gabor Szabo,
The Zeros,
Camouflage,
Joy Division,
Zapp,
Half Japanese,
Ornette Coleman,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
Brass Construction,
Carl Craig,
Television Personalities,
Todd Terry,
The Gladiators,
Masters at Work,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Negative Approach,
Wire,
The Modern Lovers,
Au Pairs,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Echospace,
Mars,
Rekid,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MDC,
Magazine,
Rakim,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare,
Eli Mardock,
Y Pants,
Minutemen,
Ossler,
New Age Steppers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roxy Music,
The Searchers,
Jawbox,
Rotary Connection,
Khruangbin,
Arcadia,
The Litter,
Bush Tetras,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.