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 New Zealand and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The American Breed to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Bourne,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Matthew Halsall,
Pulsallama,
Jawbox,
Angry Samoans,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy Collins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris Corsano,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Byrd,
the Association,
The Litter,
Delta 5,
Q65,
Oblivians,
Gang of Four,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABBA,
Shoche,
The Associates,
Unrelated Segments,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
Absolute Body Control,
Das Ding,
Darondo,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Happenings,
Brick,
These Immortal Souls,
Zapp,
Soulsonic Force,
Junior Murvin,
Pantytec,
Urselle,
Isaac Hayes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fat Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fugs,
Hashim,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Guru Guru,
Gang Gang Dance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oneida,
Fad Gadget,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.