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 Bolivia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Henry Cow 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
DJ Style,
Black Pus,
Scientists,
Colin Newman,
Delta 5,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
David McCallum,
Television Personalities,
David Axelrod,
Babytalk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
The Trojans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Darondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fatback Band,
Eddi Front,
The Leaves,
Kurtis Blow,
Whodini,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skaos,
Sparks,
JFA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Divine Comedy,
Sight & Sound,
Prince Buster,
Depeche Mode,
The Last Poets,
The Gun Club,
Reagan Youth,
The Black Dice,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
Isaac Hayes,
Royal Trux,
Pierre Henry,
Easy Going,
Animal Collective,
The Monochrome Set,
The Move,
Wire,
Jawbox,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Ituana,
The Mummies,
Wolf Eyes,
Yaz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultra Naté,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.