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 United States and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 The Invisible to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Mr. Review,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grauzone,
T. Rex,
Amon Düül II,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fear,
John Cale,
Altered Images,
The Selecter,
Sarah Menescal,
The Techniques,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
Alice Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Doors,
Lucky Dragons,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sound Behaviour,
Main Source,
Chris & Cosey,
Mark Hollis,
Brand Nubian,
Oneida,
Massinfluence,
Tim Buckley,
The Busters,
Soul II Soul,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wings,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Neon Judgement,
Guru Guru,
Amazonics,
New Order,
Black Flag,
Fad Gadget,
Duran Duran,
The J.B.'s,
Moby Grape,
DNA,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Young Rascals,
Joey Negro,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.