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 Malta and from New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Heaven 17 to the punk 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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doors,
The Blackbyrds,
Neu!,
Amon Düül II,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rekid,
Tim Buckley,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
The Gories,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
Dual Sessions,
Royal Trux,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Sheep,
Matthew Bourne,
Danielle Patucci,
The Techniques,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Porter Ricks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Section 25,
The Human League,
Qualms,
Whodini,
The Young Rascals,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Byron Stingily,
Lightning Bolt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
Suburban Knight,
Audionom,
Infiniti,
Moby Grape,
Max Romeo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crash Course in Science,
Kerrie Biddell,
June of 44,
Thee Headcoats,
OOIOO,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
Joey Negro,
Alison Limerick,
The Remains,
The United States of America,
Lalann,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.