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 Romania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Young Rascals to the electroclash 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Mojo Men,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pere Ubu,
Sun City Girls,
Zapp,
Dark Day,
Parry Music,
Ossler,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Schoolly D,
Brick,
Roger Hodgson,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smoke,
Black Sheep,
Harmonia,
Slave,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Byrd,
Royal Trux,
Cameo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Real Kids,
Japan,
AZ,
Warren Ellis,
Davy DMX,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
DNA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ken Boothe,
Ronnie Foster,
The Index,
Al Stewart,
Eve St. Jones,
Monolake,
The Angels of Light,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang of Four,
Derrick May,
June Days,
Nas,
Sight & Sound,
The Selecter,
Duran Duran,
Khruangbin,
Half Japanese,
Buzzcocks,
Bush Tetras,
Camberwell Now,
Rufus Thomas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Motorama,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tim Buckley,
Rod Modell,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.