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 Ireland and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Neon Judgement to the electroclash 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pierre Henry,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nas,
Eurythmics,
Youth Brigade,
MC5,
Pharoah Sanders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Red Krayola,
Neu!,
Heaven 17,
Mandrill,
The Pop Group,
Royal Trux,
Yellowson,
Young Marble Giants,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sonic Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gories,
Black Moon,
The Modern Lovers,
David Bowie,
The Toasters,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scion,
Eve St. Jones,
Schoolly D,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
The Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Harry Pussy,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
The Monks,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw,
Al Stewart,
Amazonics,
Tim Buckley,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Popol Vuh,
Joensuu 1685,
Kenny Larkin,
The Birthday Party,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slick Rick,
The Pretty Things,
Sugar Minott,
X-101,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.