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 Estonia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Wally Richardson to the punk 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arab on Radar,
Faust,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Misunderstood,
Icehouse,
Desert Stars,
Fear,
Funky Four + One,
Throbbing Gristle,
Urselle,
F. McDonald,
EPMD,
Yaz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Sneak,
Kerri Chandler,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bluetip,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smoke,
Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ice-T,
Spandau Ballet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Association,
New Age Steppers,
The Sonics,
T.S.O.L.,
Carl Craig,
Camberwell Now,
Boz Scaggs,
Maleditus Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Danielle Patucci,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Busters,
The Happenings,
Scan 7,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Qualms,
Yusef Lateef,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
Grauzone,
Patti Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nik Kershaw,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.