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 Delhi.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the electroclash 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
Junior Murvin,
Easy Going,
Mark Hollis,
48th St. Collective,
Pulsallama,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers,
Reuben Wilson,
Rites of Spring,
Hardrive,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rosa Yemen,
Magma,
The Standells,
Terry Callier,
Television,
Tim Buckley,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Colin Newman,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Buckinghams,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Darondo,
The Offenders,
Jeff Mills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pere Ubu,
The Music Machine,
Inner City,
Wire,
Avey Tare,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
Joey Negro,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Red Krayola,
Kayak,
Derrick Morgan,
Rod Modell,
Mantronix,
Niagra,
Zero Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Normal,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.