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 Brazil and from Jakarta.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pylon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
The Doors,
Zapp,
Marmalade,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Sam Rivers,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
In Retrospect,
Henry Cow,
the Slits,
Monolake,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Wyatt,
Moebius,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
the Human League,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Techniques,
Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras,
Brand Nubian,
the Association,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxette,
H. Thieme,
Make Up,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
The Stooges,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
Faust,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Black Bananas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Sheep,
Theoretical Girls,
AZ,
Groovy Waters,
Bad Manners,
Depeche Mode,
Das Ding,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June Days,
John Lydon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.