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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Leaves to the rap 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Remains,
The Last Poets,
Flipper,
The Victims,
Organ,
Angry Samoans,
Make Up,
The Monochrome Set,
K-Klass,
Lower 48,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tommy Roe,
Roger Hodgson,
Rakim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Amazonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Rites of Spring,
Deakin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grauzone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lakeside,
Junior Murvin,
Accadde A,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Procol Harum,
The Saints,
Jacques Brel,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Second Layer,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cecil Taylor,
Sex Pistols,
The Seeds,
The Zeros,
the Swans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swell Maps,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Sherman,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy Collins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.