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 Albania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Althea and Donna,
Silicon Teens,
John Foxx,
F. McDonald,
Bush Tetras,
The Black Dice,
Lungfish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vainqueur,
Kayak,
Cecil Taylor,
10cc,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Country Teasers,
Robert Wyatt,
Subhumans,
Nas,
Arthur Verocai,
Scion,
Black Pus,
Bang On A Can,
The Pop Group,
Echospace,
The Standells,
Deadbeat,
X-101,
The Gladiators,
The Count Five,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cure,
Warren Ellis,
Second Layer,
Au Pairs,
Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Zero Boys,
One Last Wish,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
Brick,
Lightning Bolt,
The Motions,
Arcadia,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Clarke,
Hashim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fluxion,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy,
Lyres,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.