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 Papua New Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grunge 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Faraquet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spandau Ballet,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unrelated Segments,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arab on Radar,
Ultra Naté,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
Clear Light,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Supertramp,
The Trojans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harry Pussy,
The Residents,
Nik Kershaw,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Nas,
Gabor Szabo,
MDC,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Busters,
Monks,
Smog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Niagra,
Stereo Dub,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Dolphy,
Main Source,
Television Personalities,
The Evens,
Bill Wells,
Cheater Slicks,
Ituana,
Quadrant,
The Doors,
The Searchers,
EPMD,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
The Happenings,
The Move,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hardrive,
Tommy Roe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.