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 Botswana and from Milan.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arthur Verocai to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Dolphy,
Wasted Youth,
The Buckinghams,
Toni Rubio,
Unwound,
Andrew Hill,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pop Group,
The Last Poets,
JFA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minnie Riperton,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed,
Skaos,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
The Index,
Cybotron,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Sandy B,
The Busters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grey Daturas,
Alison Limerick,
The Smoke,
Morten Harket,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mr. Review,
Essential Logic,
Tom Boy,
Suburban Knight,
Hoover,
D'Angelo,
Nik Kershaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moby Grape,
Scratch Acid,
Adolescents,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Lydon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
The Five Americans,
Kayak,
Skriet,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Move,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.