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 Estonia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord 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 The Fuzztones to the rap 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Gastr Del Sol,
Negative Approach,
The Divine Comedy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Busters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Television,
Neu!,
Procol Harum,
John Holt,
The New Christs,
Josef K,
Davy DMX,
Anakelly,
Toni Rubio,
Masters at Work,
Junior Murvin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick Morgan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan,
Swell Maps,
Erasure,
E-Dancer,
Dual Sessions,
Babytalk,
Absolute Body Control,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Wyatt,
Robert Hood,
Yazoo,
Chrome,
Charles Mingus,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
Monolake,
Mandrill,
the Germs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Evens,
Jeff Lynne,
Iggy Pop,
Jacques Brel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül,
Gang Starr,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
ABBA,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crooked Eye,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
AZ,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.