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 Nepal and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 A Certain Ratio to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Dead Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Raincoats,
Black Sheep,
Rapeman,
Prince Buster,
Henry Cow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Music Machine,
Main Source,
Groovy Waters,
Public Enemy,
Average White Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alton Ellis,
Talk Talk,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Zero Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Flag,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeru the Damaja,
Terry Callier,
Flipper,
D'Angelo,
K-Klass,
Josef K,
Roy Ayers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Whodini,
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
Todd Terry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vladislav Delay,
The Techniques,
The Cowsills,
The Birthday Party,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joy Division,
Livin' Joy,
Aural Exciters,
Outsiders,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Inner City,
Unwound,
David Bowie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boredoms,
Cymande,
Roger Hodgson,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.