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 Uganda and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the electroclash 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Bluetip,
The Remains,
Neil Young,
Icehouse,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rapeman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
R.M.O.,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Peter and Kerry,
Mission of Burma,
Spandau Ballet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare,
The Seeds,
Quadrant,
Donny Hathaway,
Schoolly D,
Don Cherry,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harpers Bizarre,
Silicon Teens,
Marcia Griffiths,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
The Cowsills,
Cymande,
Nas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Smog,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Slave,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
The Residents,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.