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 United States and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Durutti Column,
Rapeman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Lungfish,
Spandau Ballet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
Laurel Aitken,
Neu!,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Minutemen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Derrick Morgan,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Modern Lovers,
The Electric Prunes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultra Naté,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hoover,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
the Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
Hashim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Newcleus,
Yusef Lateef,
Swans,
Circle Jerks,
Trumans Water,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Bananas,
Ituana,
Sam Rivers,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang On A Can,
Pere Ubu,
Mo-Dettes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Guru Guru,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
Dual Sessions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.