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 Bremen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 MDC to the techno 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Essential Logic,
John Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Circle Jerks,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moebius,
Todd Terry,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Cecil Taylor,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeff Lynne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Iggy Pop,
The Techniques,
Bauhaus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
L. Decosne,
Heaven 17,
The Skatalites,
Harmonia,
Motorama,
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
Au Pairs,
Schoolly D,
Faraquet,
Porter Ricks,
The Kinks,
Delta 5,
Fela Kuti,
Lindisfarne,
June Days,
Intrusion,
Technova,
The Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Organ,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
The Pretty Things,
Subhumans,
The Toasters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Teasers,
Davy DMX,
Barbara Tucker,
The Knickerbockers,
Young Marble Giants,
Fugazi,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.