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 Gabon and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Whodini to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Gun Club,
Cameo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bang On A Can,
the Slits,
The Gories,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Black Pus,
Organ,
Rufus Thomas,
Letta Mbulu,
Tears for Fears,
Colin Newman,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacob Miller,
Scion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Bowie,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bill Wells,
The Durutti Column,
Oneida,
Faraquet,
Cybotron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry's Kids,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
Todd Terry,
Maurizio,
Aswad,
Isaac Hayes,
Symarip,
Neu!,
Crime,
Silicon Teens,
The Leaves,
Kerri Chandler,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Half Japanese,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deepchord,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mojo Men,
The Pretty Things,
Little Man,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Funky Four + One,
John Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Byrd,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.