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 Cape Verde and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 These Immortal Souls to the disco 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
Loose Ends,
Pierre Henry,
Adolescents,
Piero Umiliani,
Rosa Yemen,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Techniques,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Litter,
Accadde A,
Robert Hood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brand Nubian,
Nirvana,
CMW,
Grey Daturas,
Rekid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Sneak,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
D'Angelo,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thee Headcoats,
Max Romeo,
Alice Coltrane,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Style,
Ronan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultravox,
New York Dolls,
Cecil Taylor,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
Lower 48,
Lee Hazlewood,
Excepter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Henry Cow,
PIL,
Susan Cadogan,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
Colin Newman,
The Remains,
Urselle,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Womack,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.