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 Lithuania and from Mumbai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tubeway Army to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Delon & Dalcan,
D'Angelo,
the Fania All-Stars,
June Days,
Archie Shepp,
MDC,
Davy DMX,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Green,
Ten City,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Neon Judgement,
Carl Craig,
Juan Atkins,
Sound Behaviour,
The Toasters,
Cheater Slicks,
Bauhaus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Agitation Free,
Black Moon,
Sight & Sound,
The Raincoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erasure,
Girls At Our Best!,
Country Teasers,
Joey Negro,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Flesh Eaters,
Negative Approach,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glambeats Corp.,
H. Thieme,
Nation of Ulysses,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Chris Corsano,
Prince Buster,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barbara Tucker,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
The Stooges,
Arab on Radar,
Franke,
Smog,
Schoolly D,
Wasted Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Spandau Ballet,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.