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 Lithuania and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Motorama,
The Tremeloes,
Negative Approach,
Hoover,
Byron Stingily,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Pole,
Second Layer,
Aswad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echospace,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blancmange,
Marvin Gaye,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun Ra,
JFA,
Dual Sessions,
Danielle Patucci,
Flash Fearless,
T.S.O.L.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Parrish,
Suburban Knight,
Cal Tjader,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Osbourne,
Malaria!,
The Associates,
The Birthday Party,
These Immortal Souls,
Fatback Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
The New Christs,
Qualms,
Sandy B,
Oblivians,
Scientists,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Porter Ricks,
The Wake,
Underground Resistance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Copeland,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Görl,
Moebius,
Chris & Cosey,
Fluxion,
FM Einheit,
The Blues Magoos,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Warren Ellis,
Section 25,
Ossler,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.