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 Ivory Coast and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 T. Rex to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Brick,
Connie Case,
Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mad Mike,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
Eurythmics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tom Boy,
E-Dancer,
Amon Düül,
Ponytail,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
Public Enemy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Erykah Badu,
New Age Steppers,
OOIOO,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cure,
Roxy Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Remains,
Deepchord,
Motorama,
Eric Dolphy,
Urselle,
Altered Images,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blackbyrds,
Absolute Body Control,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Josef K,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faraquet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Patti Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
MC5,
the Fania All-Stars,
The New Christs,
UT,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
DJ Style,
Surgeon,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.