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 Liechtenstein and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Hot Snakes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Anakelly,
Moss Icon,
Trumans Water,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Green,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Walker Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Kinks,
Lightning Bolt,
Alice Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Derrick May,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
Sun City Girls,
China Crisis,
Banda Bassotti,
Lakeside,
The Real Kids,
The Cramps,
Pantytec,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rod Modell,
H. Thieme,
Thompson Twins,
Parry Music,
Echospace,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Detroit Cobras,
Henry Cow,
Tubeway Army,
Negative Approach,
Zero Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Goldenarms,
Pierre Henry,
Crash Course in Science,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sound,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Wings,
The Birthday Party,
T.S.O.L.,
Basic Channel,
UT,
Blake Baxter,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.