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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Aswad,
Zero Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Kaleidoscope,
John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Funkadelic,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed,
Niagra,
Model 500,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lyres,
Jacob Miller,
Althea and Donna,
Kayak,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rod Modell,
Mission of Burma,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
The Mummies,
Nirvana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Underground Resistance,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
Echospace,
Todd Terry,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
MC5,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantaleimon,
Agitation Free,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Copeland,
Soulsonic Force,
Blancmange,
Vladislav Delay,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wally Richardson,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.