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 Estonia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Doors to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
Outsiders,
Michelle Simonal,
Whodini,
Masters at Work,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cure,
Agitation Free,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Vogues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Television,
The Neon Judgement,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gories,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Susan Cadogan,
Ponytail,
The Associates,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
EPMD,
AZ,
Bad Manners,
The Gladiators,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Piero Umiliani,
Hasil Adkins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jandek,
Dead Boys,
Moebius,
Anthony Braxton,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gap Band,
Deepchord,
X-101,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-102,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.