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 Uruguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vogues to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Moon,
Scrapy,
Patti Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gabor Szabo,
The Red Krayola,
Sällskapet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Khruangbin,
Amazonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heaven 17,
The Angels of Light,
Mr. Review,
Altered Images,
Ornette Coleman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter and Kerry,
Pantaleimon,
Bronski Beat,
Au Pairs,
Eddi Front,
Zero Boys,
Pantytec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
Desert Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
The Searchers,
Babytalk,
Infiniti,
Mandrill,
Arcadia,
48th St. Collective,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
The Monochrome Set,
Agent Orange,
Depeche Mode,
Country Teasers,
the Swans,
Ossler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
T. Rex,
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
Loose Ends,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.