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 Norway and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 The Doobie Brothers to the rap 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
cv313,
DJ Sneak,
Barbara Tucker,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
Harmonia,
The Sonics,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
Television,
Pantytec,
Eddi Front,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
Siglo XX,
Blake Baxter,
Fatback Band,
Bang On A Can,
Cybotron,
Saccharine Trust,
Dennis Brown,
New Age Steppers,
Patti Smith,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
Funky Four + One,
John Holt,
The Misunderstood,
Ronnie Foster,
Grauzone,
Popol Vuh,
Jawbox,
Scrapy,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
Boredoms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soft Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
Rod Modell,
The Happenings,
The Associates,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra,
Newcleus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warren Ellis,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.