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 Indonesia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 The Kinks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Trojans,
Joy Division,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
Surgeon,
Ronan,
Ten City,
The Barracudas,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Icehouse,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kurtis Blow,
JFA,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
L. Decosne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Qualms,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glambeats Corp.,
Letta Mbulu,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
Cecil Taylor,
Brand Nubian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jawbox,
The Smiths,
Pulsallama,
Kayak,
Von Mondo,
Quando Quango,
Black Moon,
Ossler,
Ken Boothe,
Arab on Radar,
Bauhaus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zapp,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Durutti Column,
Cluster,
Patti Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
Make Up,
Amon Düül II,
CMW,
Janne Schatter,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.