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 Iceland and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ten City to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roger Hodgson,
Oneida,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Janne Schatter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Maurizio,
Easy Going,
Bad Manners,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nik Kershaw,
Ludus,
China Crisis,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gladiators,
Pantytec,
Ponytail,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
Silicon Teens,
Japan,
Yellowson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
MDC,
The Vogues,
Terry Callier,
Brass Construction,
Sun City Girls,
PIL,
Cameo,
Brand Nubian,
Sarah Menescal,
Marmalade,
David McCallum,
Underground Resistance,
Lower 48,
Sonic Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Freddie Wadling,
Connie Case,
Chrome,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fall,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Rundgren,
UT,
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Quando Quango,
Carl Craig,
Arthur Verocai,
The Grass Roots,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.