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 Korea North and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nation of Ulysses to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Q and Not U,
Bush Tetras,
Depeche Mode,
Althea and Donna,
The Monochrome Set,
B.T. Express,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Selecter,
Sandy B,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Nick Fraelich,
Matthew Halsall,
Brothers Johnson,
The Residents,
DNA,
Peter & Gordon,
Y Pants,
Gichy Dan,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stiv Bators,
Public Enemy,
Dead Boys,
MC5,
the Slits,
T.S.O.L.,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
Oneida,
Drexciya,
Grey Daturas,
H. Thieme,
Absolute Body Control,
Joy Division,
Quadrant,
The Smoke,
Steve Hackett,
The Walker Brothers,
Das Ding,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mo-Dettes,
the Human League,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
The Names,
E-Dancer,
Smog,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scrapy,
Icehouse,
The Fuzztones,
Index,
Eurythmics,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.