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 El Salvador and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Popol Vuh to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
The Names,
Sam Rivers,
AZ,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Qualms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ituana,
Supertramp,
The Index,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
Minutemen,
Gabor Szabo,
Tubeway Army,
Procol Harum,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Bang On A Can,
Tommy Roe,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fuzztones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Index,
R.M.O.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arthur Verocai,
Scrapy,
David McCallum,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Bourne,
Saccharine Trust,
Rites of Spring,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joy Division,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Porter Ricks,
The Evens,
MC5,
The Alarm Clocks,
a-ha,
The Offenders,
Danielle Patucci,
Liliput,
Bronski Beat,
Faraquet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erykah Badu,
X-Ray Spex,
The Wake,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Five Americans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Leaves,
The Trojans,
the Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.