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 the UAE and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Trumans Water to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Q and Not U,
Crispian St. Peters,
Khruangbin,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arcadia,
PIL,
Drexciya,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cecil Taylor,
Danielle Patucci,
David Bowie,
Bauhaus,
Ponytail,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Stooges,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Ituana,
Roxette,
Joensuu 1685,
Pet Shop Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
Max Romeo,
Rod Modell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chrome,
Bill Wells,
Hoover,
Country Teasers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mo-Dettes,
Mantronix,
Groovy Waters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
Stetsasonic,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Janne Schatter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crooked Eye,
Bush Tetras,
Dave Gahan,
The Music Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New York Dolls,
The Neon Judgement,
Morten Harket,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.