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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 The Last Poets to the jazz 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
The Buckinghams,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gong,
Nirvana,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eden Ahbez,
Theoretical Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crash Course in Science,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Anthony Braxton,
The J.B.'s,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Josef K,
The Durutti Column,
Model 500,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cymande,
Warren Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ponytail,
Rakim,
These Immortal Souls,
H. Thieme,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
DJ Sneak,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
Depeche Mode,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Smog,
The Litter,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Underground Resistance,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Niagra,
K-Klass,
the Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cosmic Jokers,
EPMD,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monochrome Set,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.