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 Luxembourg and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lower 48 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
MDC,
Rosa Yemen,
F. McDonald,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
The Gories,
the Swans,
Kenny Larkin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Index,
The Kinks,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Sherman,
Intrusion,
Saccharine Trust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Janne Schatter,
The Selecter,
David Bowie,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
Popol Vuh,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kas Product,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June Days,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zapp,
Massinfluence,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blancmange,
Nik Kershaw,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
AZ,
New York Dolls,
Ossler,
Soft Cell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ice-T,
Arthur Verocai,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang of Four,
The Angels of Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric Copeland,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
K-Klass,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.