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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 The Invisible to the rock 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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Lynne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Audionom,
Derrick Morgan,
Circle Jerks,
Metal Thangz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
The Golliwogs,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Radio Birdman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mandrill,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cramps,
Q and Not U,
Erasure,
Matthew Halsall,
Piero Umiliani,
Slave,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Christie,
Todd Terry,
Underground Resistance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Moon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Martian,
Fat Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott Heron,
E-Dancer,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slits,
Q65,
Bill Near,
Funky Four + One,
DNA,
Pere Ubu,
Absolute Body Control,
Inner City,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
FM Einheit,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
The Star Department,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Kas Product,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.