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 Guatemala and from Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Velvet Underground to the crunk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deepchord,
Newcleus,
Joe Finger,
Sun Ra,
The Five Americans,
The Vogues,
Swans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deakin,
Yaz,
Country Teasers,
Carl Craig,
Fear,
Alice Coltrane,
The Barracudas,
Agent Orange,
The Moleskins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeff Lynne,
The Knickerbockers,
Eric Dolphy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Boredoms,
Crash Course in Science,
Theoretical Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Babytalk,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cowsills,
Niagra,
Urselle,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
E-Dancer,
Zapp,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
K-Klass,
Max Romeo,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
Lakeside,
Fad Gadget,
The Smoke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Procol Harum,
kango's stein massive,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.