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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 X-102 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kayak,
The Residents,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Sound,
One Last Wish,
Slave,
The Fortunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Scan 7,
The Angels of Light,
Procol Harum,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Simply Red,
These Immortal Souls,
X-102,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wire,
Jawbox,
Fear,
Chris & Cosey,
Little Man,
Sparks,
Lungfish,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
Al Stewart,
Man Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dead C,
Henry Cow,
The Leaves,
The Velvet Underground,
Barry Ungar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Associates,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smiths,
FM Einheit,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Sheep,
The Toasters,
Rotary Connection,
Joensuu 1685,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.