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 Laos and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience to the electroclash 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Magma,
The J.B.'s,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Terry,
Spandau Ballet,
Scientists,
Leonard Cohen,
Gichy Dan,
Clear Light,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Bad Manners,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Smoke,
Barry Ungar,
The Busters,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
Skriet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pulsallama,
Funkadelic,
Letta Mbulu,
Freddie Wadling,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Symarip,
Harry Pussy,
Ultravox,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MDC,
the Association,
Donny Hathaway,
Y Pants,
DNA,
Tres Demented,
Smog,
The Gap Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quando Quango,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.