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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Donald Fagen 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Monolake,
Ossler,
Black Pus,
Hardrive,
Gichy Dan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Q and Not U,
Mad Mike,
Visage,
Joe Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Zeros,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Bob Dylan,
The Fall,
Cybotron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Guru Guru,
Amazonics,
Flipper,
The Knickerbockers,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Görl,
Slave,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Reagan Youth,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moody Blues,
La Düsseldorf,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smoke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Das Ding,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nirvana,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra,
E-Dancer,
Barry Ungar,
Rakim,
R.M.O.,
Second Layer,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter & Gordon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.