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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Maurizio to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Womack,
Letta Mbulu,
Mr. Review,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
The Pretty Things,
UT,
Fugazi,
Bauhaus,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pylon,
CMW,
Cybotron,
The Flesh Eaters,
kango's stein massive,
The Five Americans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Flag,
Althea and Donna,
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
The Star Department,
Darondo,
The Blackbyrds,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers,
Inner City,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
The Black Dice,
Joensuu 1685,
June Days,
The New Christs,
Charles Mingus,
June of 44,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Alison Limerick,
The Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boredoms,
Scrapy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Average White Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
Arab on Radar,
Easy Going,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amon Düül II,
Hoover,
The Fall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.