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 Palau and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Divine Comedy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Brick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Japan,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Boredoms,
Cecil Taylor,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Green,
Organ,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cowsills,
Suburban Knight,
Hoover,
Amon Düül,
Donald Byrd,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Shuggie Otis,
Roxette,
Bang On A Can,
Absolute Body Control,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Scion,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Mills,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Associates,
CMW,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nas,
The Raincoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Todd Terry,
Faraquet,
Mandrill,
Gang of Four,
Procol Harum,
Slave,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
Nico,
The Dead C,
Minny Pops,
The Tremeloes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.