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 Chile and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Malaria! to the rock 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Ituana,
JFA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Busters,
Sound Behaviour,
The Knickerbockers,
Terry Callier,
Tomorrow,
Rites of Spring,
Godley & Creme,
The Evens,
Yusef Lateef,
Masters at Work,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lucky Dragons,
Minutemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ohio Players,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Sherman,
Flash Fearless,
Icehouse,
Ken Boothe,
Moebius,
World's Most,
The Remains,
The Martian,
Bang On A Can,
John Holt,
Quadrant,
the Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Motions,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Pussy Galore,
Marvin Gaye,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Bluetip,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
Dual Sessions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
R.M.O.,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Mills,
Slave,
David Axelrod,
Thompson Twins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roxette,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.