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 Cuba and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monolake,
The Fuzztones,
Sandy B,
Audionom,
Rakim,
Erasure,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dead C,
Fluxion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sister Nancy,
Peter & Gordon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marine Girls,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
Little Man,
Pere Ubu,
D'Angelo,
Derrick May,
Quadrant,
Black Sheep,
Skarface,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Flipper,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rekid,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monochrome Set,
One Last Wish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric Copeland,
The Knickerbockers,
Stiv Bators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Birthday Party,
Gang of Four,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
Robert Wyatt,
The Toasters,
Yellowson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Shoche,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Pretty Things,
Lucky Dragons,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Albert Ayler,
Tim Buckley,
Crime,
Harpers Bizarre,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
Second Layer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.