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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Stooges,
The Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
Arab on Radar,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Section 25,
Rakim,
the Association,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minnie Riperton,
Talk Talk,
Soft Cell,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
Con Funk Shun,
Michelle Simonal,
Wally Richardson,
The Blackbyrds,
Whodini,
KRS-One,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Byrd,
Zero Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Josef K,
Rosa Yemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tubeway Army,
In Retrospect,
Tears for Fears,
Index,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Black Dice,
Inner City,
Eddi Front,
Shoche,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lightning Bolt,
Agitation Free,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonic Youth,
John Holt,
Max Romeo,
Bauhaus,
Sister Nancy,
Moss Icon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warren Ellis,
Neu!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.