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 Kyrgyzstan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo 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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Todd Terry to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Wyatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Cale,
Neil Young,
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
the Human League,
Wally Richardson,
a-ha,
Isaac Hayes,
The Victims,
Bootsy Collins,
Oneida,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-101,
Man Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deadbeat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
Bill Near,
cv313,
Al Stewart,
Organ,
Soulsonic Force,
Grauzone,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül,
The Golliwogs,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
The Mummies,
The Flesh Eaters,
Juan Atkins,
X-Ray Spex,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Hill,
The Slits,
Zero Boys,
Minor Threat,
MDC,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Derrick May,
Bronski Beat,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Qualms,
Scrapy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
The Gladiators,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.