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 Swaziland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Blues Magoos to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
Robert Wyatt,
Danielle Patucci,
Eve St. Jones,
Drexciya,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Move,
Young Marble Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Style,
Wire,
Swans,
June Days,
Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Pus,
Alton Ellis,
The Happenings,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Music Machine,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
Eden Ahbez,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
Procol Harum,
Dead Boys,
Fat Boys,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Wells,
Mars,
Sonic Youth,
Dark Day,
Television,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
10cc,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Finger,
The Invisible,
Subhumans,
The J.B.'s,
Symarip,
The Vogues,
Parry Music,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.