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 Rwanda and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Fat Boys to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Basic Channel,
Magma,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cybotron,
Aswad,
The Cramps,
Yellowson,
Royal Trux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-101,
Todd Rundgren,
Wolf Eyes,
Q65,
Ice-T,
48th St. Collective,
The Move,
Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Moss Icon,
June Days,
Wings,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Spandau Ballet,
Quantec,
Pharoah Sanders,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Reagan Youth,
Babytalk,
H. Thieme,
Grauzone,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Altered Images,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nation of Ulysses,
The American Breed,
The Index,
The Happenings,
Von Mondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
Television,
Boz Scaggs,
Hashim,
Roger Hodgson,
K-Klass,
The Trojans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bill Wells,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlback,
The New Christs,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.