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 Turkey and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Derrick May to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
B.T. Express,
Neu!,
Cluster,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
Dennis Brown,
John Cale,
Scan 7,
Iggy Pop,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nico,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bauhaus,
The Remains,
Chrome,
Ultravox,
Buzzcocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stereo Dub,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
JFA,
The Litter,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soft Machine,
Camouflage,
Outsiders,
The Move,
Rosa Yemen,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
Vainqueur,
Drexciya,
Joe Smooth,
Wings,
Pantaleimon,
Liliput,
Quando Quango,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
F. McDonald,
The Pop Group,
Japan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Intrusion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sister Nancy,
Wire,
Bob Dylan,
Yellowson,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.