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 Georgia and from Stockholm.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barry Ungar to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Soul II Soul,
Amon Düül,
Quantec,
Organ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sam Rivers,
Amazonics,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Gichy Dan,
X-Ray Spex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minor Threat,
The Black Dice,
Robert Görl,
Jacob Miller,
Mantronix,
Nico,
Archie Shepp,
The Toasters,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
The Fugs,
Public Enemy,
Banda Bassotti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Zero Boys,
Lyres,
Cybotron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
Moby Grape,
Scion,
Rapeman,
Dual Sessions,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
Dave Gahan,
Chris Corsano,
Jimmy McGriff,
Prince Buster,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lee Hazlewood,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dead C,
The Gun Club,
Dennis Brown,
Guru Guru,
OOIOO,
Thee Headcoats,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.