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 Somalia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Terry Callier to the dance 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
The Sound,
Fugazi,
Pulsallama,
The Gories,
Nico,
Fad Gadget,
Ornette Coleman,
Absolute Body Control,
The Misunderstood,
Patti Smith,
Circle Jerks,
The Golliwogs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yaz,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Peter & Gordon,
Yazoo,
The Walker Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Arab on Radar,
The Flesh Eaters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Shuggie Otis,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
Brothers Johnson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Country Teasers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minny Pops,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scratch Acid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The United States of America,
kango's stein massive,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scott Walker,
The Grass Roots,
Agent Orange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Buckinghams,
The Trojans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barrington Levy,
The Litter,
Dead Boys,
Stereo Dub,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drexciya,
Grandmaster Flash,
This Heat,
Stetsasonic,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.