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 Colombia and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Country Teasers to the electroclash 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Jeff Mills,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
Scientists,
Joe Finger,
Interpol,
Duran Duran,
Country Teasers,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Moebius,
Porter Ricks,
Cymande,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
X-Ray Spex,
New York Dolls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Trumans Water,
Adolescents,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Seeds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Wells,
The Beau Brummels,
Simply Red,
David Bowie,
Tubeway Army,
New Age Steppers,
The Selecter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
UT,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Khruangbin,
June of 44,
The Red Krayola,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Darondo,
Nico,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brick,
The Offenders,
Altered Images,
Dual Sessions,
48th St. Collective,
The Cramps,
Scion,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radio Birdman,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pierre Henry,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.