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 Solomon Islands and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pantaleimon to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Angels of Light,
Moss Icon,
Niagra,
The Modern Lovers,
Connie Case,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Simply Red,
Depeche Mode,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Josef K,
CMW,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Eurythmics,
a-ha,
Aural Exciters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pylon,
Eddi Front,
A Certain Ratio,
The Associates,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Procol Harum,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Offenders,
David McCallum,
The Grass Roots,
Funky Four + One,
Cecil Taylor,
The Five Americans,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Crime,
Laurel Aitken,
Roger Hodgson,
Y Pants,
Kurtis Blow,
Cheater Slicks,
E-Dancer,
Lalann,
The Slits,
Marc Almond,
Rapeman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharoah Sanders,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.