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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Tears for Fears 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Radio Birdman,
Slave,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
Pylon,
Crime,
Aloha Tigers,
Sister Nancy,
Sixth Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sugar Minott,
Swell Maps,
Dawn Penn,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Infiniti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun Ra,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
Inner City,
Cluster,
Shuggie Otis,
Country Teasers,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Magma,
Piero Umiliani,
Make Up,
Soulsonic Force,
Q65,
Peter & Gordon,
Dennis Brown,
Talk Talk,
E-Dancer,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suburban Knight,
Oblivians,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Deadbeat,
Brand Nubian,
Pagans,
Godley & Creme,
Stetsasonic,
Charles Mingus,
Maleditus Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Starr,
Yaz,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Zeros,
Blossom Toes,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.