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 Argentina and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Sandy B to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Byron Stingily,
Blossom Toes,
EPMD,
The Angels of Light,
Goldenarms,
Flipper,
Porter Ricks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cymande,
Cybotron,
Alphaville,
Mo-Dettes,
Joey Negro,
Thompson Twins,
Radiopuhelimet,
China Crisis,
John Lydon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Rapeman,
Parry Music,
The Toasters,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lindisfarne,
Babytalk,
The Kinks,
Icehouse,
Sun City Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
Janne Schatter,
John Cale,
Amazonics,
Simply Red,
Intrusion,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
Anthony Braxton,
Negative Approach,
Dual Sessions,
Mission of Burma,
Y Pants,
The Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Ohio Players,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.