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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Lou Reed 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 E-Dancer to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Carl Craig,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Colin Newman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Pantytec,
Bauhaus,
Sixth Finger,
Brass Construction,
Youth Brigade,
The Walker Brothers,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
Cybotron,
Scan 7,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jandek,
The Associates,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
Faraquet,
Brand Nubian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
The Young Rascals,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Los Fastidios,
Organ,
Ronan,
CMW,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rekid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Lucky Dragons,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
World's Most,
Frankie Knuckles,
Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
The Cure,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Public Image Ltd.,
One Last Wish,
The Smoke,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.