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 Korea North and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Lyres,
Cameo,
The Move,
T. Rex,
Fad Gadget,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Visage,
Toni Rubio,
Roy Ayers,
The Grass Roots,
The Skatalites,
Ronan,
Sonic Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Delta 5,
Maurizio,
Depeche Mode,
Masters at Work,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
Crash Course in Science,
Barrington Levy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
Vladislav Delay,
Moss Icon,
The Dead C,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faust,
Pulsallama,
the Association,
Grandmaster Flash,
Howard Jones,
Mars,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
MDC,
Organ,
James White and The Blacks,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
CMW,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Beau Brummels,
The Martian,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alton Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Names,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.