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 Suriname and from Lyon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Simply Red to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter and Kerry,
John Lydon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Inner City,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Jawbox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bronski Beat,
Dawn Penn,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pagans,
the Human League,
The Zeros,
Derrick Morgan,
Cameo,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
Gichy Dan,
Simply Red,
The Slackers,
Kerri Chandler,
Slave,
A Certain Ratio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Moon,
The Smoke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bob Dylan,
Brothers Johnson,
Dave Gahan,
The Saints,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nils Olav,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pretty Things,
Danielle Patucci,
Henry Cow,
Public Enemy,
John Holt,
Accadde A,
Brass Construction,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Sex Pistols,
Fatback Band,
Motorama,
Audionom,
EPMD,
Drexciya,
Lou Christie,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mission of Burma,
Icehouse,
Alphaville,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.