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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Erykah Badu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Sonic Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
Junior Murvin,
Lindisfarne,
Kerri Chandler,
Pussy Galore,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
Black Moon,
LL Cool J,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed,
Derrick May,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gap Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aural Exciters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mandrill,
Morten Harket,
Alton Ellis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tres Demented,
Roger Hodgson,
The Angels of Light,
Ken Boothe,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Ultimate Spinach,
Curtis Mayfield,
Royal Trux,
Camberwell Now,
Cybotron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
The Neon Judgement,
Young Marble Giants,
X-102,
Masters at Work,
Talk Talk,
Soulsonic Force,
Eurythmics,
Animal Collective,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.