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 Belarus and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Warren Ellis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Gang Green,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DNA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cheater Slicks,
Erasure,
Mandrill,
The Smoke,
Marc Almond,
Tears for Fears,
Saccharine Trust,
The Seeds,
Jeff Mills,
Massinfluence,
Jawbox,
David McCallum,
Marvin Gaye,
Silicon Teens,
Dennis Brown,
Newcleus,
Lungfish,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Teasers,
Metal Thangz,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Stooges,
Skaos,
Panda Bear,
Icehouse,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rufus Thomas,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
Shoche,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Foxx,
Bizarre Inc.,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Camberwell Now,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rod Modell,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Crooked Eye,
Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Piero Umiliani,
Junior Murvin,
Cybotron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.