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 Montenegro and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Popol Vuh to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Minnie Riperton,
Charles Mingus,
Gong,
Suicide,
Eli Mardock,
Crooked Eye,
the Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Jeff Lynne,
Rapeman,
Bill Near,
Porter Ricks,
Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Minor Threat,
Dual Sessions,
Agent Orange,
John Holt,
Goldenarms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
The Monochrome Set,
Joe Smooth,
Shoche,
Outsiders,
The Cowsills,
Ludus,
Half Japanese,
Soft Machine,
X-101,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Tommy Roe,
John Cale,
Sandy B,
Yellowson,
The Victims,
Gang Gang Dance,
Man Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arthur Verocai,
Tubeway Army,
Peter and Kerry,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
This Heat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Vogues,
Sam Rivers,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.