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 Comoros and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Niagra to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jandek,
Depeche Mode,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drexciya,
Anthony Braxton,
Bad Manners,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Cybotron,
Marine Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
The Remains,
Rites of Spring,
Crooked Eye,
Funky Four + One,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Foxx,
Inner City,
the Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scion,
Aswad,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Don Cherry,
Henry Cow,
The Trojans,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
Harry Pussy,
X-Ray Spex,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
Panda Bear,
Prince Buster,
Man Parrish,
E-Dancer,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
Radio Birdman,
Marvin Gaye,
Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
The Black Dice,
Boredoms,
Mo-Dettes,
Oneida,
Smog,
Matthew Bourne,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.