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 Cameroon 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Slave to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
T. Rex,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Blackbyrds,
Cameo,
Shuggie Otis,
Wings,
Skaos,
Hoover,
Funky Four + One,
Isaac Hayes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tubeway Army,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mars,
Soulsonic Force,
Flipper,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
Liliput,
The New Christs,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Carl Craig,
Quando Quango,
Chrome,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Stooges,
Thee Headcoats,
Scrapy,
Eden Ahbez,
Charles Mingus,
June of 44,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scientists,
Little Man,
Malaria!,
MC5,
Roxette,
Y Pants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Whodini,
Morten Harket,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.