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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Gichy Dan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Minny Pops,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
One Last Wish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kerri Chandler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stereo Dub,
The United States of America,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun Ra,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Babytalk,
Pierre Henry,
Quadrant,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
Tim Buckley,
Bill Wells,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
A Certain Ratio,
Gabor Szabo,
Masters at Work,
David McCallum,
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
Saccharine Trust,
Althea and Donna,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Suicide,
Max Romeo,
U.S. Maple,
Goldenarms,
Funky Four + One,
Khruangbin,
Camouflage,
The Blues Magoos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
ABC,
the Normal,
Morten Harket,
Audionom,
Boz Scaggs,
Archie Shepp,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.