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 Rwanda and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 The Detroit Cobras to the punk 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Sheep,
Marvin Gaye,
Byron Stingily,
Mars,
This Heat,
Blake Baxter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amon Düül,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Lydon,
Shoche,
The Motions,
Leonard Cohen,
The Kinks,
Babytalk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boredoms,
Roxy Music,
Electric Prunes,
The Five Americans,
Negative Approach,
Wire,
Mad Mike,
The Invisible,
the Germs,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Normal,
Wings,
Whodini,
Cybotron,
Fugazi,
Popol Vuh,
Mo-Dettes,
Make Up,
the Soft Cell,
Soul II Soul,
Skarface,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Rites of Spring,
B.T. Express,
Funkadelic,
Slave,
Second Layer,
Maurizio,
The Wake,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang of Four,
Al Stewart,
Moss Icon,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Talk Talk,
Loose Ends,
World's Most,
Lindisfarne,
Pantytec,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nico,
New Age Steppers,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.