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 Tuvalu and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marcia Griffiths to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
JFA,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fugs,
Alice Coltrane,
Flamin' Groovies,
AZ,
Television,
Goldenarms,
Pussy Galore,
Buzzcocks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Index,
Matthew Halsall,
Davy DMX,
Blake Baxter,
Marvin Gaye,
Dawn Penn,
Toni Rubio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Iggy Pop,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Young Rascals,
June of 44,
Joensuu 1685,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
K-Klass,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
L. Decosne,
Heaven 17,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Christie,
The Moleskins,
Infiniti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lyres,
Clear Light,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MC5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roger Hodgson,
DJ Sneak,
Loose Ends,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Massinfluence,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Associates,
Sixth Finger,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moebius,
The Doobie Brothers,
Steve Hackett,
Maurizio,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.