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 Mexico and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Robert Palmer 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 Simply Red to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Pylon,
Siglo XX,
Roxette,
Eve St. Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Saccharine Trust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lungfish,
The Fall,
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
Tom Boy,
Soft Machine,
T. Rex,
The Residents,
Main Source,
Drexciya,
Magazine,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
John Holt,
Easy Going,
Severed Heads,
Gang Green,
Yusef Lateef,
Shuggie Otis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ultra Naté,
Deepchord,
Intrusion,
The Vogues,
CMW,
Janne Schatter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Rapeman,
the Slits,
Animal Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tim Buckley,
Soul II Soul,
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cheater Slicks,
Pierre Henry,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Birthday Party,
The Stooges,
Babytalk,
Morten Harket,
Chris & Cosey,
Outsiders,
The Mojo Men,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.