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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terrestrial Tones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Von Mondo,
Organ,
Swell Maps,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
The Residents,
Underground Resistance,
Basic Channel,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lucky Dragons,
Marvin Gaye,
The Beau Brummels,
Ituana,
Crash Course in Science,
Harry Pussy,
R.M.O.,
Metal Thangz,
The Doors,
Guru Guru,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fuzztones,
The Gories,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
Masters at Work,
Black Sheep,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Q65,
Crime,
Depeche Mode,
Monolake,
The Invisible,
Swans,
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
Mr. Review,
Brick,
China Crisis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
KRS-One,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suicide,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Das Ding,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.