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 Greece and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grunge 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Cure,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pussy Galore,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terry Callier,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eddi Front,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dave Gahan,
Brick,
Bobby Sherman,
Isaac Hayes,
Visage,
Kayak,
The Mummies,
Country Joe & The Fish,
This Heat,
The Index,
The Selecter,
X-102,
Vladislav Delay,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Eurythmics,
Carl Craig,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Leaves,
Main Source,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moby Grape,
Sällskapet,
Youth Brigade,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funky Four + One,
Stiv Bators,
Soul II Soul,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Aloha Tigers,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Warsaw,
Chrome,
Public Image Ltd.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mantronix,
MC5,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Beau Brummels,
Sister Nancy,
Bang On A Can,
The Martian,
Oblivians,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.