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 Albania and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jesper Dahlback to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
R.M.O.,
Minny Pops,
Japan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
Fear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott Heron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
OOIOO,
Drexciya,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Germs,
Matthew Bourne,
Magazine,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
The J.B.'s,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lakeside,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Finger,
Pantytec,
Hashim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Dave Clark Five,
Erasure,
The Last Poets,
Sixth Finger,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Matthew Halsall,
Alphaville,
Lee Hazlewood,
Carl Craig,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donald Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
Maurizio,
Goldenarms,
Adolescents,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shuggie Otis,
Rufus Thomas,
Lyres,
Absolute Body Control,
Flipper,
Motorama,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.