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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
kango's stein massive,
Agent Orange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lungfish,
Gang Starr,
Ohio Players,
Zero Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Country Teasers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Susan Cadogan,
Model 500,
Warsaw,
Pierre Henry,
OOIOO,
Throbbing Gristle,
Judy Mowatt,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mummies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Matthew Halsall,
Terry Callier,
The Gladiators,
Vainqueur,
Black Moon,
A Certain Ratio,
Tom Boy,
Guru Guru,
Danielle Patucci,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Bourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kenny Larkin,
Arthur Verocai,
cv313,
Bronski Beat,
Suicide,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rites of Spring,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
Pantaleimon,
Little Man,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Görl,
Steve Hackett,
Graham Central Station,
Banda Bassotti,
The Misunderstood,
Sound Behaviour,
Dennis Brown,
Suburban Knight,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and 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.