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 Uganda and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Funky Four + One to the electroclash 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
John Coltrane,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
The Pop Group,
Grauzone,
The Leaves,
Circle Jerks,
Soulsonic Force,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radiohead,
Derrick Morgan,
Scion,
H. Thieme,
Brass Construction,
Duran Duran,
The Wake,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Technova,
Cymande,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Cell,
Ten City,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Connie Case,
Pole,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cramps,
Chris Corsano,
the Human League,
Erykah Badu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eurythmics,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
10cc,
AZ,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
Moebius,
The Knickerbockers,
The Last Poets,
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Todd Terry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
ABBA,
The Star Department,
A Certain Ratio,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.