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 Guinea and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Modern Lovers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Pantytec,
Slave,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Index,
Second Layer,
Kas Product,
Alice Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Massinfluence,
Eric Copeland,
OOIOO,
Darondo,
The Smoke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Boredoms,
Tropical Tobacco,
10cc,
B.T. Express,
Fat Boys,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker,
Infiniti,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mummies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camouflage,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalann,
Morten Harket,
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Rundgren,
David McCallum,
Section 25,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
The Pretty Things,
The Fall,
Tears for Fears,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rapeman,
The Dirtbombs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
Soul II Soul,
Franke,
The Toasters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Das Ding,
Eden Ahbez,
The Offenders,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.