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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Banda Bassotti to the dance 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alphaville,
Man Eating Sloth,
L. Decosne,
Minnie Riperton,
Donny Hathaway,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bad Manners,
New Order,
Television,
Chrome,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joy Division,
This Heat,
Suburban Knight,
The Techniques,
Ludus,
Todd Terry,
Yaz,
The Index,
Flipper,
Black Moon,
Neil Young,
Joyce Sims,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Rapeman,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Toasters,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
La Düsseldorf,
Rekid,
Dennis Brown,
Ossler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Adolescents,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
F. McDonald,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Echospace,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.