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 Macedonia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Niagra to the crunk 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Average White Band,
Fugazi,
Crime,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Bananas,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gories,
Loose Ends,
The Remains,
Ultra Naté,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Section 25,
Silicon Teens,
Masters at Work,
The Kinks,
the Bar-Kays,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Max Romeo,
Joe Finger,
Bootsy Collins,
The Knickerbockers,
Faust,
Amazonics,
Sällskapet,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Alarm Clocks,
Leonard Cohen,
Aloha Tigers,
Kurtis Blow,
Joy Division,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
Crooked Eye,
New Order,
Lakeside,
Hoover,
Little Man,
Accadde A,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Visage,
Sister Nancy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magma,
Organ,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Laurel Aitken,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Junior Murvin,
The J.B.'s,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minor Threat,
The Dead C,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacques Brel,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.