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 Panama and from Lille.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Ultimate Spinach to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Kurtis Blow,
La Düsseldorf,
Angry Samoans,
Boz Scaggs,
Kenny Larkin,
Judy Mowatt,
MDC,
Technova,
Letta Mbulu,
The Red Krayola,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sam Rivers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Television Personalities,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
The Pop Group,
Fad Gadget,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
Heaven 17,
Wire,
Adolescents,
cv313,
Todd Rundgren,
Bill Near,
Bad Manners,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bronski Beat,
Marmalade,
Byron Stingily,
The Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
Fela Kuti,
The Fugs,
Khruangbin,
John Cale,
Nik Kershaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Depeche Mode,
The Gun Club,
Robert Görl,
The Selecter,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.