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 Bahrain and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
One Last Wish,
Don Cherry,
Crispian St. Peters,
L. Decosne,
Pulsallama,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ossler,
Blancmange,
Oblivians,
Wasted Youth,
10cc,
The Searchers,
Agent Orange,
Grauzone,
Zero Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vainqueur,
Judy Mowatt,
AZ,
Ponytail,
Tears for Fears,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Cell,
Funkadelic,
the Human League,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Clarke,
FM Einheit,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erasure,
Wolf Eyes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marc Almond,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
Talk Talk,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Albert Ayler,
The Invisible,
Nirvana,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
Can,
The Kinks,
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B,
Sam Rivers,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
Hoover,
The Golliwogs,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.