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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 David Bowie 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 Babytalk to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
The Gories,
Ten City,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wally Richardson,
Tommy Roe,
Bluetip,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wasted Youth,
Roxy Music,
Interpol,
X-Ray Spex,
Deepchord,
Bootsy Collins,
Motorama,
Cymande,
The Victims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Negative Approach,
Essential Logic,
DJ Style,
Eurythmics,
OOIOO,
Jacob Miller,
John Foxx,
Blake Baxter,
David Bowie,
Subhumans,
The Fortunes,
Maurizio,
Slick Rick,
Cameo,
Liliput,
Camberwell Now,
The Residents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
ABC,
Sister Nancy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warren Ellis,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Barracudas,
Tears for Fears,
Blancmange,
Desert Stars,
The Skatalites,
Buzzcocks,
Gichy Dan,
Ronan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tubeway Army,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.