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 Croatia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 David Bowie 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Searchers,
Rotary Connection,
Sällskapet,
Al Stewart,
New York Dolls,
Babytalk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The American Breed,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Morten Harket,
Reuben Wilson,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Iggy Pop,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Interpol,
Jeff Lynne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tom Boy,
Altered Images,
Cymande,
The Busters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Red Krayola,
Marine Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
June of 44,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Magma,
Monolake,
Rhythm & Sound,
Swell Maps,
Rod Modell,
The Gladiators,
Sarah Menescal,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
Joensuu 1685,
Soul II Soul,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
K-Klass,
Theoretical Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Mummies,
Tim Buckley,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scratch Acid,
Kaleidoscope,
Blossom Toes,
Cecil Taylor,
Josef K,
R.M.O.,
8 Eyed Spy,
B.T. Express,
The United States of America,
PIL,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.