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 Kuwait and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Star Department to the grunge 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Boz Scaggs,
Smog,
Chris Corsano,
The Smoke,
Nils Olav,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Litter,
Niagra,
Rapeman,
Nico,
Cheater Slicks,
Goldenarms,
Godley & Creme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
The Mummies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
Half Japanese,
The Last Poets,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
Franke,
Schoolly D,
Au Pairs,
The Offenders,
Easy Going,
Cymande,
Black Moon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hashim,
the Bar-Kays,
Lungfish,
Josef K,
FM Einheit,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sound Behaviour,
The Index,
Donald Byrd,
The Doors,
Henry Cow,
Delta 5,
The Seeds,
Ossler,
Joe Smooth,
Stiv Bators,
Brand Nubian,
Kerrie Biddell,
PIL,
Crash Course in Science,
Isaac Hayes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lightning Bolt,
Don Cherry,
Inner City,
the Human League,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.