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 Nicaragua and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
Black Bananas,
Mo-Dettes,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sound,
Depeche Mode,
The Remains,
Sandy B,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Patti Smith,
CMW,
Stockholm Monsters,
Young Marble Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kenny Larkin,
Derrick Morgan,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
The Kinks,
The Cowsills,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
Guru Guru,
Radiohead,
The Index,
Slave,
John Holt,
Rakim,
DJ Sneak,
Mad Mike,
Youth Brigade,
Arthur Verocai,
Mr. Review,
K-Klass,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Marmalade,
The Flesh Eaters,
The New Christs,
Lou Christie,
The Human League,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Starr,
Aswad,
Charles Mingus,
Interpol,
Magazine,
Mars,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Velvet Underground,
Brothers Johnson,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Names,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
EPMD,
Morten Harket,
Niagra,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.