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 Canada and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
Brothers Johnson,
The Martian,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joe Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
Loose Ends,
Hasil Adkins,
Pantaleimon,
Ken Boothe,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
Deepchord,
Charles Mingus,
DJ Sneak,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lucky Dragons,
The Red Krayola,
Scrapy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
Jawbox,
D'Angelo,
Bronski Beat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Carl Craig,
Absolute Body Control,
The Birthday Party,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MDC,
The Moody Blues,
B.T. Express,
Don Cherry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
Altered Images,
Nirvana,
Rites of Spring,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
JFA,
Alison Limerick,
Bang On A Can,
Urselle,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bush Tetras,
China Crisis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Darondo,
Whodini,
Man Eating Sloth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.