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 Canada and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Sun City Girls to the funk 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Groovy Waters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vainqueur,
Lyres,
Popol Vuh,
Sixth Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
Suburban Knight,
Cameo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Electric Prunes,
The Motions,
Electric Prunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric Copeland,
Matthew Halsall,
UT,
Carl Craig,
Babytalk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rekid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Detroit Cobras,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Camouflage,
Terry Callier,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalo Schifrin,
Altered Images,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Das Ding,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mojo Men,
U.S. Maple,
Harmonia,
Suicide,
Al Stewart,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Pus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echospace,
Ituana,
Peter & Gordon,
Circle Jerks,
The Remains,
Gang of Four,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chrome,
Dark Day,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.