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 Honduras and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yazoo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
Yusef Lateef,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Alice Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Warren Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Starr,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Von Mondo,
Franke,
Siglo XX,
The Music Machine,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terry Callier,
Pussy Galore,
Brick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Saints,
Max Romeo,
Y Pants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Bang On A Can,
Davy DMX,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
The Barracudas,
Aswad,
The Smoke,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Slits,
Wings,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Age Steppers,
Make Up,
Scan 7,
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
Wire,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Green,
Amon Düül,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.