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 Tanzania and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cosmic Jokers to the rap 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Amazonics,
Niagra,
Bootsy Collins,
Rapeman,
Tubeway Army,
Kerri Chandler,
Khruangbin,
Amon Düül II,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sonic Youth,
MC5,
Warsaw,
Pussy Galore,
The Gladiators,
John Lydon,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Aural Exciters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Johnny Clarke,
Magma,
Minutemen,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kayak,
Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Mark Hollis,
Porter Ricks,
Scan 7,
the Slits,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Moon,
Brick,
Hasil Adkins,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Grey Daturas,
The Fugs,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey,
Deadbeat,
The Buckinghams,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Buzzcocks,
Trumans Water,
The Seeds,
Jacques Brel,
The American Breed,
The Dave Clark Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Holt,
Model 500,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.