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 Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Loose Ends 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Sandy B,
Soft Cell,
Youth Brigade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rakim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry's Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Fela Kuti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dead Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marvin Gaye,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
Ten City,
Vladislav Delay,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Michelle Simonal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barbara Tucker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arcadia,
Lou Christie,
Nik Kershaw,
The Index,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
Don Cherry,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Residents,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
The Leaves,
Scratch Acid,
Jeff Lynne,
Ohio Players,
The Martian,
Lucky Dragons,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moby Grape,
48th St. Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Steve Hackett,
The Birthday Party,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.