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 Belize and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 Depeche Mode to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tres Demented,
Pantaleimon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Swans,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Searchers,
Marc Almond,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oneida,
Ken Boothe,
Mr. Review,
Swell Maps,
Arcadia,
Ituana,
LL Cool J,
Ten City,
Curtis Mayfield,
Graham Central Station,
Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stiv Bators,
Colin Newman,
Drexciya,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Section 25,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lalann,
Radiopuhelimet,
Josef K,
The Fugs,
Joe Smooth,
Yusef Lateef,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Velvet Underground,
Hoover,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
Aaron Thompson,
Slave,
Kayak,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang of Four,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bad Manners,
DJ Sneak,
The Sonics,
DNA,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.