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 Somalia and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dead Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Whodini,
Scrapy,
Stetsasonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Teasers,
Oneida,
The Toasters,
The Selecter,
AZ,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neil Young,
New York Dolls,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
Skriet,
The Cramps,
The Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Mark Hollis,
kango's stein massive,
Thompson Twins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Near,
Eric Copeland,
Leonard Cohen,
The Invisible,
Liliput,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
X-Ray Spex,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
The Cowsills,
The Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare,
Sandy B,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kayak,
Deepchord,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
Rekid,
Letta Mbulu,
Clear Light,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
Parry Music,
Second Layer,
Sparks,
Roxy Music,
Bluetip,
Cybotron,
Section 25,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.