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 China and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Harry Pussy to the grunge 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hot Snakes,
Erykah Badu,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
Funkadelic,
Jeff Mills,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
X-Ray Spex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eric Dolphy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Selecter,
New Age Steppers,
Smog,
Radiohead,
Motorama,
Von Mondo,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
Scratch Acid,
Basic Channel,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed,
Warsaw,
Thee Headcoats,
Aural Exciters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Victims,
Alphaville,
The Wake,
Tommy Roe,
Porter Ricks,
Mark Hollis,
Crime,
The Moleskins,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare,
Television,
Mantronix,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
The Five Americans,
Pere Ubu,
Fluxion,
Joey Negro,
Agent Orange,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.