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 Laos and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Bad Manners to the electroclash 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave 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?
Amon Düül II,
The Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Yaz,
Hoover,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Peter and Kerry,
Vainqueur,
Technova,
Graham Central Station,
Alison Limerick,
Nik Kershaw,
Youth Brigade,
Bronski Beat,
Tears for Fears,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Green,
Groovy Waters,
Excepter,
James White and The Blacks,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
The Stooges,
Sister Nancy,
Brothers Johnson,
Clear Light,
John Lydon,
Kas Product,
Sixth Finger,
Skarface,
Bob Dylan,
Los Fastidios,
Dark Day,
Massinfluence,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Normal,
Radio Birdman,
Easy Going,
Deakin,
Joe Finger,
The Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang On A Can,
Joy Division,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Zero Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Index,
Moss Icon,
Rosa Yemen,
Deepchord,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.