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 Belgium and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Bourne,
Alice Coltrane,
Bush Tetras,
Duran Duran,
the Germs,
Marine Girls,
Masters at Work,
Television,
Danielle Patucci,
The Knickerbockers,
The Count Five,
48th St. Collective,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABBA,
Vainqueur,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sound Behaviour,
One Last Wish,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Certain Ratio,
Kas Product,
Soul II Soul,
Leonard Cohen,
Soul Sonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moss Icon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Inner City,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
Gong,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agent Orange,
The Beau Brummels,
PIL,
Black Bananas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Byrd,
Tres Demented,
The United States of America,
Cymande,
The Shadows of Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-101,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ten City,
Pussy Galore,
Radiopuhelimet,
Simply Red,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.