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 Syria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the punk 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
The Cramps,
The Doobie Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
Dead Boys,
The Martian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quantec,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joey Negro,
Duran Duran,
Pole,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mark Hollis,
Crash Course in Science,
The Litter,
Don Cherry,
Bluetip,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mandrill,
The Cowsills,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxy Music,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
OOIOO,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Patti Smith,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deepchord,
Sixth Finger,
The Golliwogs,
a-ha,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Ossler,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Byron Stingily,
The Mojo Men,
Erykah Badu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Toasters,
Subhumans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City,
Skarface,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang On A Can,
the Association,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.