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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Lightning Bolt to the dance 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soul II Soul,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
Kenny Larkin,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Deakin,
Swans,
Fluxion,
Lalann,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Pole,
Yaz,
Gang Green,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Hood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tubeway Army,
Index,
Roy Ayers,
Juan Atkins,
David Bowie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Electric Prunes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pantaleimon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Busters,
Metal Thangz,
the Normal,
Jacques Brel,
Warsaw,
Slave,
Wally Richardson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Thompson Twins,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gladiators,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
Rakim,
The Moleskins,
Simply Red,
Carl Craig,
Little Man,
Ten City,
Yazoo,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brothers Johnson,
Moss Icon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Flag,
The Dirtbombs,
Mantronix,
Eddi Front,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.