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 Slovakia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the funk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Soft Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Gang of Four,
Masters at Work,
The Beau Brummels,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lower 48,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tears for Fears,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
Morten Harket,
The Fuzztones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-101,
Lindisfarne,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Black Dice,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
Black Flag,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Bananas,
Groovy Waters,
Junior Murvin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heaven 17,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang On A Can,
R.M.O.,
Deadbeat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Barbara Tucker,
Inner City,
Connie Case,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Almond,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Standells,
Fela Kuti,
Desert Stars,
Joe Smooth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cal Tjader,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.