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 Mali and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Vogues,
Spandau Ballet,
The New Christs,
Sarah Menescal,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Pantytec,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronan,
Fugazi,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vainqueur,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Darondo,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
Adolescents,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
Supertramp,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boredoms,
Aaron Thompson,
Wally Richardson,
Brand Nubian,
The Trojans,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Flipper,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
Porter Ricks,
Q and Not U,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
kango's stein massive,
The Offenders,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Parry Music,
Sandy B,
Alice Coltrane,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Magma,
Todd Terry,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.