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 Libya and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Litter to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
B.T. Express,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bluetip,
Terrestrial Tones,
Theoretical Girls,
the Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Ornette Coleman,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
The Divine Comedy,
The Wake,
Chris & Cosey,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Babytalk,
Can,
Black Pus,
Throbbing Gristle,
48th St. Collective,
Sam Rivers,
Popol Vuh,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
Mark Hollis,
The Busters,
Pere Ubu,
Grauzone,
Rotary Connection,
Quadrant,
Cybotron,
The Selecter,
Icehouse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neil Young,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kas Product,
Chris Corsano,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Almond,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
The Five Americans,
Second Layer,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
Charles Mingus,
10cc,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Style,
Thompson Twins,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Half Japanese,
Letta Mbulu,
Yusef Lateef,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.