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 Rwanda and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Banda Bassotti to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Morten Harket,
Joy Division,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ponytail,
Sarah Menescal,
Pussy Galore,
The Detroit Cobras,
DJ Sneak,
The Litter,
Brand Nubian,
Tears for Fears,
The Monochrome Set,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Intrusion,
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker,
X-102,
Cymande,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultra Naté,
Skaos,
In Retrospect,
Heaven 17,
Fad Gadget,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radio Birdman,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fugazi,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pylon,
Lucky Dragons,
Altered Images,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Eurythmics,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
D'Angelo,
The Monks,
Jacques Brel,
New York Dolls,
Minor Threat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rosa Yemen,
David Axelrod,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Style,
UT,
Magma,
Blancmange,
Arcadia,
The Moleskins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boredoms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rotary Connection,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.