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 Iraq and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
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 spring reverb 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 The Mummies to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bauhaus,
New Order,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Remains,
Kerrie Biddell,
T.S.O.L.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantytec,
Metal Thangz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Steve Hackett,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anakelly,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
D'Angelo,
The Star Department,
Negative Approach,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scientists,
This Heat,
The Selecter,
Brick,
Arthur Verocai,
Swell Maps,
T. Rex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Wake,
The Divine Comedy,
Wire,
Au Pairs,
The Evens,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Boz Scaggs,
Franke,
Mad Mike,
X-101,
Groovy Waters,
The Count Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
Warren Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Eve St. Jones,
Cameo,
DNA,
Anthony Braxton,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultravox,
Sparks,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.