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 Poland and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the dance 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Outsiders,
Drexciya,
Easy Going,
Mr. Review,
Animal Collective,
Scion,
Supertramp,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lyres,
These Immortal Souls,
Electric Prunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rosa Yemen,
Pagans,
Severed Heads,
Jerry's Kids,
Television Personalities,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Youth Brigade,
Roxy Music,
Eddi Front,
The Fuzztones,
Slick Rick,
Maurizio,
Masters at Work,
The Dead C,
Oblivians,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
MDC,
Jacob Miller,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chrome,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Popol Vuh,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Zeros,
Iggy Pop,
Junior Murvin,
Depeche Mode,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fela Kuti,
Alison Limerick,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Idris Muhammad,
Rakim,
Dead Boys,
The Motions,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
Leonard Cohen,
Bootsy Collins,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.