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 Indonesia and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 Soft Cell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang On A Can,
Shoche,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The United States of America,
Public Image Ltd.,
Todd Terry,
Liliput,
The Music Machine,
Half Japanese,
Agent Orange,
The Gun Club,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
James White and The Blacks,
World's Most,
Black Pus,
PIL,
The Birthday Party,
Television Personalities,
Crime,
Yazoo,
Aloha Tigers,
Goldenarms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joyce Sims,
Blancmange,
Hashim,
Hardrive,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Sherman,
the Human League,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wally Richardson,
The Searchers,
The Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alison Limerick,
The Buckinghams,
Marine Girls,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
The Gladiators,
E-Dancer,
Black Bananas,
F. McDonald,
Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
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.