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 Switzerland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Hot Snakes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Starr,
10cc,
The Fortunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Electric Prunes,
Severed Heads,
The Gun Club,
Alison Limerick,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
The Saints,
June Days,
The Remains,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Smoke,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Hood,
The Doors,
Cybotron,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yaz,
Marine Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kayak,
Juan Atkins,
Ice-T,
Kerri Chandler,
Wasted Youth,
Harmonia,
Fatback Band,
Ossler,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
Niagra,
Alice Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Moon,
Surgeon,
Liliput,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Sheep,
The Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pierre Henry,
Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
kango's stein massive,
Essential Logic,
DJ Sneak,
Jeru the Damaja,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.