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 Swaziland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Neon Judgement to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Gang of Four,
Das Ding,
Dual Sessions,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minor Threat,
The Moleskins,
Joe Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television Personalities,
Lou Reed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Patti Smith,
Sandy B,
Con Funk Shun,
Ash Ra Tempel,
One Last Wish,
David Axelrod,
MDC,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pierre Henry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Monolake,
John Foxx,
Marmalade,
Eden Ahbez,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Teasers,
The Slackers,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Crash Course in Science,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
The Golliwogs,
Bronski Beat,
Von Mondo,
Bad Manners,
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unrelated Segments,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fluxion,
Robert Wyatt,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.