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 Malaysia and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 OOIOO to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sällskapet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sandy B,
Procol Harum,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drexciya,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Trojans,
Jerry's Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Invisible,
Stiv Bators,
Unwound,
Lou Reed,
Fela Kuti,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Audionom,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
Prince Buster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
Donald Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Television,
Radio Birdman,
AZ,
Ossler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
Nik Kershaw,
H. Thieme,
Lalann,
Bootsy Collins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Index,
The Fuzztones,
Stereo Dub,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
Freddie Wadling,
Scion,
The Dead C,
Interpol,
Section 25,
The Kinks,
Eric Dolphy,
David Bowie,
Surgeon,
Loose Ends,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Nico,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.