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 Andorra and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Lalann,
Alison Limerick,
Ronnie Foster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pussy Galore,
The Walker Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
The Busters,
Deakin,
Japan,
The Wake,
Pole,
Rapeman,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
The Victims,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
Max Romeo,
Harmonia,
John Holt,
ABBA,
kango's stein massive,
Lower 48,
Fluxion,
Sugar Minott,
Masters at Work,
the Normal,
Michelle Simonal,
The Evens,
Kaleidoscope,
F. McDonald,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mummies,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
Television,
The Skatalites,
Terry Callier,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scan 7,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
Don Cherry,
Banda Bassotti,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Connie Case,
Monolake,
Davy DMX,
Dead Boys,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.