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 India and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum 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 Darondo 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Organ,
Black Pus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Dolphy,
Ronan,
New Age Steppers,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
CMW,
Josef K,
Simply Red,
Sun Ra,
Unwound,
James White and The Blacks,
Desert Stars,
Drexciya,
Lower 48,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work,
The Seeds,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
Adolescents,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter and Kerry,
Smog,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brothers Johnson,
Scrapy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Intrusion,
B.T. Express,
Hasil Adkins,
Slick Rick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nirvana,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
LL Cool J,
Dark Day,
Jerry's Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
New York Dolls,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Foxx,
Sandy B,
Bobby Sherman,
Gregory Isaacs,
Maleditus Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
the Slits,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.