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 Liechtenstein and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 John Holt to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terry Callier,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Knickerbockers,
Scientists,
Parry Music,
Cameo,
Flash Fearless,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Sheep,
Sun Ra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Rundgren,
Anakelly,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Victims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Can,
Sugar Minott,
Danielle Patucci,
Blake Baxter,
Ohio Players,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Surgeon,
Monks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Blues Magoos,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Neu!,
The Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
Josef K,
Yellowson,
Sparks,
Panda Bear,
Index,
the Soft Cell,
The New Christs,
Marine Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Human League,
Michelle Simonal,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Visage,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
Barrington Levy,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.