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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Soul Sonic Force to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
PIL,
Laurel Aitken,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camouflage,
Darondo,
The Five Americans,
Ornette Coleman,
Newcleus,
The Happenings,
Reagan Youth,
Joey Negro,
Jacob Miller,
Lower 48,
Jeff Mills,
Motorama,
Sun City Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Smooth,
Easy Going,
Thompson Twins,
The Vogues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Organ,
The Slackers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mummies,
Absolute Body Control,
Interpol,
Technova,
Ultravox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
KRS-One,
Minnie Riperton,
Jawbox,
Drexciya,
Shoche,
John Foxx,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gories,
Hoover,
The Misunderstood,
Mark Hollis,
Moss Icon,
Deakin,
Outsiders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gun Club,
Altered Images,
Nils Olav,
Monks,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Clarke,
Faraquet,
U.S. Maple,
Joy Division,
Circle Jerks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.