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 United Kingdom and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Altered Images to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
CMW,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Axelrod,
Franke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eden Ahbez,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
The Remains,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Ronan,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonic Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pantytec,
The J.B.'s,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Green,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mars,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sight & Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Toni Rubio,
Ponytail,
Liliput,
Camouflage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yaz,
The Raincoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Leonard Cohen,
Hasil Adkins,
Tres Demented,
Zapp,
The Divine Comedy,
Derrick Morgan,
Nas,
Anthony Braxton,
Organ,
Niagra,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.