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 Lebanon and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mandrill to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Brothers Johnson,
The Residents,
kango's stein massive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mark Hollis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxette,
Hot Snakes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Hood,
Black Pus,
Khruangbin,
Glenn Branca,
X-101,
Laurel Aitken,
The Knickerbockers,
Second Layer,
Public Enemy,
The Five Americans,
Derrick Morgan,
CMW,
Pere Ubu,
Morten Harket,
Simply Red,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker,
48th St. Collective,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott Heron,
Vainqueur,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
Bluetip,
Kurtis Blow,
Magma,
Banda Bassotti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Buzzcocks,
MC5,
Freddie Wadling,
Wasted Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
June of 44,
Cheater Slicks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Skaos,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alton Ellis,
Tomorrow,
Todd Terry,
Cluster,
Magazine,
Crooked Eye,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.