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 Moldova and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the disco 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Darondo,
MDC,
Faust,
Radiohead,
Pere Ubu,
John Lydon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Velvet Underground,
The Doors,
A Certain Ratio,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
Amon Düül,
Skarface,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Groovy Waters,
Qualms,
The Durutti Column,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
Basic Channel,
John Foxx,
The Sound,
Black Flag,
John Cale,
K-Klass,
Siglo XX,
Tres Demented,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
a-ha,
Minny Pops,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q and Not U,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Animal Collective,
Hoover,
Arcadia,
Aswad,
Grauzone,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tom Boy,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deadbeat,
Jandek,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Star Department,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun City Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.