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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the grunge 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Alphaville,
Crispian St. Peters,
Clear Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Wake,
Robert Wyatt,
Camouflage,
F. McDonald,
Rakim,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Carl Craig,
Metal Thangz,
Sister Nancy,
Minny Pops,
The Martian,
Black Bananas,
Ten City,
Qualms,
Schoolly D,
In Retrospect,
Spandau Ballet,
Shuggie Otis,
Rufus Thomas,
Jandek,
the Slits,
X-102,
Lalann,
DJ Style,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eli Mardock,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
10cc,
The Red Krayola,
Flash Fearless,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Christie,
Marc Almond,
Essential Logic,
Tears for Fears,
Archie Shepp,
Agent Orange,
Pylon,
Guru Guru,
Mr. Review,
the Bar-Kays,
Bauhaus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ohio Players,
Warren Ellis,
The Fortunes,
Cymande,
a-ha,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.