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 Norway and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the electroclash 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II,
Shoche,
Soul II Soul,
Blossom Toes,
Arcadia,
The Move,
Stiv Bators,
Siglo XX,
Sight & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Susan Cadogan,
Negative Approach,
Sonny Sharrock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
MC5,
Frankie Knuckles,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
the Association,
the Normal,
The Walker Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Darondo,
Nas,
The Dead C,
Ituana,
Magazine,
Ultra Naté,
Funky Four + One,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Misunderstood,
Scion,
Todd Terry,
Oneida,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Victims,
F. McDonald,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quantec,
The Raincoats,
Mantronix,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quando Quango,
Prince Buster,
The Kinks,
Traffic Nightmare,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cecil Taylor,
Bootsy Collins,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.