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 Mauritius and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Youth Brigade,
Howard Jones,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cymande,
Kas Product,
Barry Ungar,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Glambeats Corp.,
Porter Ricks,
Barrington Levy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Martian,
Alphaville,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Laurel Aitken,
X-101,
Joey Negro,
Barbara Tucker,
John Lydon,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siglo XX,
John Cale,
Girls At Our Best!,
Intrusion,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
John Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Monks,
Royal Trux,
The Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
June Days,
Charles Mingus,
D'Angelo,
Shoche,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aural Exciters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Quantec,
Wolf Eyes,
Roger Hodgson,
Young Marble Giants,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.