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 Zimbabwe and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
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 arpeggiator 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
D'Angelo,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
Desert Stars,
the Sonics,
DJ Sneak,
John Holt,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doors,
The Names,
Wally Richardson,
Cameo,
Thompson Twins,
The Moleskins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Junior Murvin,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Josef K,
Glenn Branca,
Patti Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nas,
X-Ray Spex,
Arthur Verocai,
The Star Department,
The J.B.'s,
Icehouse,
David Axelrod,
Kevin Saunderson,
The New Christs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Byrd,
Pussy Galore,
Todd Terry,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
Shuggie Otis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gories,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pet Shop Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jerry's Kids,
New Order,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mission of Burma,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Underground Resistance,
48th St. Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
Fat Boys,
Tommy Roe,
The American Breed,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.