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 Djibouti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 T.S.O.L. to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Fuzztones,
Cecil Taylor,
MDC,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Motorama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
The Kinks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amazonics,
The Young Rascals,
The Knickerbockers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mojo Men,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
The Gun Club,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minny Pops,
Jeru the Damaja,
Public Enemy,
China Crisis,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
X-Ray Spex,
Alison Limerick,
Brothers Johnson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Talk Talk,
The Star Department,
cv313,
Royal Trux,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
F. McDonald,
The Music Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mummies,
Marvin Gaye,
Underground Resistance,
The Moleskins,
the Swans,
Tom Boy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
Blancmange,
Aural Exciters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deakin,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.