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 Lithuania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül II,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
U.S. Maple,
The Fugs,
Smog,
Flash Fearless,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soulsonic Force,
Freddie Wadling,
Mark Hollis,
Whodini,
Rod Modell,
Section 25,
X-101,
Von Mondo,
Wire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Camberwell Now,
Cameo,
Youth Brigade,
Minutemen,
AZ,
Fatback Band,
The Pop Group,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MC5,
Bob Dylan,
Ten City,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers,
Eric Copeland,
Sonic Youth,
E-Dancer,
Lower 48,
Guru Guru,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Green,
kango's stein massive,
Surgeon,
Faust,
The Durutti Column,
Heaven 17,
Graham Central Station,
Janne Schatter,
The Velvet Underground,
Lalann,
The Mummies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cure,
Lindisfarne,
X-Ray Spex,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.