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 Andorra and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Curtis Mayfield to the dance 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Intrusion,
Pussy Galore,
Isaac Hayes,
Warren Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
The Five Americans,
Bill Near,
David Bowie,
Al Stewart,
John Foxx,
U.S. Maple,
ABBA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Subhumans,
the Slits,
June Days,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New Age Steppers,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
Crime,
The Angels of Light,
Slick Rick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
EPMD,
Cecil Taylor,
Magma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q and Not U,
Sun City Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Stooges,
The Seeds,
Y Pants,
Jandek,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
Wally Richardson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Little Man,
Second Layer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Techniques,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dead Boys,
Ponytail,
Gichy Dan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül,
The Gladiators,
The Vogues,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.