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 Moldova and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Derrick Morgan,
Rites of Spring,
Rotary Connection,
Schoolly D,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
L. Decosne,
Cybotron,
Lungfish,
Grey Daturas,
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dawn Penn,
Soul Sonic Force,
Model 500,
kango's stein massive,
Scientists,
Eric Dolphy,
Deadbeat,
Cymande,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nirvana,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Bananas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Khruangbin,
Scion,
Bill Wells,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scan 7,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delta 5,
Aural Exciters,
The Barracudas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suicide,
Simply Red,
Symarip,
cv313,
Basic Channel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Sneak,
Television Personalities,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
Eurythmics,
Au Pairs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.