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 India and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
Wire,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flamin' Groovies,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Christie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
kango's stein massive,
Rosa Yemen,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zero Boys,
Scrapy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Panda Bear,
Schoolly D,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
The Evens,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed,
Von Mondo,
Moby Grape,
Scientists,
Khruangbin,
Black Flag,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
Lower 48,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Byrd,
The Walker Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalann,
Marshall Jefferson,
Severed Heads,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pole,
John Cale,
Pagans,
The Slackers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul II Soul,
Drexciya,
The Black Dice,
Cameo,
The Velvet Underground,
Dead Boys,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.