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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Radiohead to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Hoover,
Man Eating Sloth,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young,
Cheater Slicks,
Dual Sessions,
Nas,
Dark Day,
Fluxion,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
10cc,
The Move,
Warren Ellis,
Lyres,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zapp,
Theoretical Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ice-T,
The Monochrome Set,
R.M.O.,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
Bill Wells,
The J.B.'s,
Mr. Review,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Scion,
The New Christs,
The Seeds,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Archie Shepp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Technova,
The Cure,
Babytalk,
Tom Boy,
Ultra Naté,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Darondo,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Hill,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radio Birdman,
Television Personalities,
Joe Finger,
Hardrive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moss Icon,
Fad Gadget,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.