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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the crunk 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dual Sessions,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Public Enemy,
Q and Not U,
DJ Sneak,
Altered Images,
Deakin,
Can,
Funkadelic,
Johnny Clarke,
Junior Murvin,
Reuben Wilson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
Average White Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crime,
Swell Maps,
Supertramp,
MC5,
The J.B.'s,
Davy DMX,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tropical Tobacco,
Archie Shepp,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
Television,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Symarip,
Gabor Szabo,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
The Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Marmalade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aloha Tigers,
Lucky Dragons,
Massinfluence,
James White and The Blacks,
the Association,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Hood,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.