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 Hungary and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camberwell Now,
The Mojo Men,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fluxion,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Style,
Yellowson,
The Tremeloes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Erasure,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Inner City,
Excepter,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Soft Machine,
Minutemen,
Isaac Hayes,
Fatback Band,
Eric Copeland,
Girls At Our Best!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Roxy Music,
Technova,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
David Axelrod,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Womack,
Freddie Wadling,
The Birthday Party,
the Association,
Japan,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
Nik Kershaw,
The Skatalites,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Motions,
Nirvana,
Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
The Names,
The Toasters,
Los Fastidios,
Michelle Simonal,
John Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
Young Marble Giants,
Audionom,
Desert Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Wells,
Minor Threat,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.