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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 Rekid to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Radio Birdman,
Massinfluence,
Barrington Levy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aaron Thompson,
MC5,
Ossler,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bluetip,
Girls At Our Best!,
Maurizio,
The Mojo Men,
The Fugs,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The J.B.'s,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dennis Brown,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hoover,
Minnie Riperton,
Rosa Yemen,
Erasure,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Depeche Mode,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun Ra,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gories,
Section 25,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Sight & Sound,
Morten Harket,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joey Negro,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deepchord,
Buzzcocks,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Happenings,
Sound Behaviour,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Searchers,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.