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 Ukraine and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Piero Umiliani to the grunge 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
World's Most,
Groovy Waters,
David McCallum,
Alison Limerick,
Archie Shepp,
Scion,
Joensuu 1685,
The Slits,
Depeche Mode,
Surgeon,
Wire,
James White and The Blacks,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Soft Machine,
a-ha,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scientists,
Reuben Wilson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
Mo-Dettes,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
The Velvet Underground,
Nico,
Siglo XX,
Joey Negro,
Nick Fraelich,
Technova,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brick,
Duran Duran,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Clear Light,
Porter Ricks,
Aural Exciters,
Arcadia,
Black Sheep,
Los Fastidios,
The Gories,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
Don Cherry,
Quadrant,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amon Düül,
Sight & Sound,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.