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 Grenada and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Womack to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Rosa Yemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Cell,
Tim Buckley,
Mantronix,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
Urselle,
The Zeros,
Bluetip,
Scan 7,
Vainqueur,
Erasure,
Marshall Jefferson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yusef Lateef,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sandy B,
Von Mondo,
Sixth Finger,
the Germs,
David McCallum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warren Ellis,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Victims,
Matthew Halsall,
The Invisible,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Flag,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MDC,
Intrusion,
Tres Demented,
Kenny Larkin,
Buzzcocks,
Audionom,
The Trojans,
Groovy Waters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Interpol,
The Black Dice,
Swell Maps,
Arthur Verocai,
The Star Department,
The Fuzztones,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.