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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 The Toasters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
AZ,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra,
The Slits,
Juan Atkins,
The Wake,
Roxy Music,
Rod Modell,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
Lebanon Hanover,
Janne Schatter,
Porter Ricks,
DJ Style,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
Massinfluence,
Eddi Front,
Panda Bear,
The United States of America,
Colin Newman,
The Cowsills,
The Leaves,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Raincoats,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
One Last Wish,
Skriet,
Accadde A,
Monks,
Skaos,
Roxette,
Rufus Thomas,
Sixth Finger,
Soul II Soul,
Can,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Prunes,
Ituana,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Kas Product,
The Doors,
Buzzcocks,
Pierre Henry,
Mantronix,
Inner City,
Model 500,
Faust,
Fugazi,
Liliput,
The Toasters,
Black Flag,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.