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 Netherlands and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
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 oboe 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
Marine Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Morten Harket,
Sällskapet,
Pussy Galore,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
Cal Tjader,
Tres Demented,
Nick Fraelich,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tom Boy,
Joy Division,
Black Pus,
Mary Jane Girls,
F. McDonald,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Erasure,
Iggy Pop,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scion,
Stereo Dub,
The Motions,
Camberwell Now,
Sixth Finger,
The Slackers,
Blancmange,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Porter Ricks,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mad Mike,
Ponytail,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
Heaven 17,
Alice Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Liliput,
Adolescents,
Ohio Players,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
Make Up,
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.