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 St Lucia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 Deadbeat to the electroclash 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Piero Umiliani,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dead C,
Boogie Down Productions,
Khruangbin,
Arcadia,
Cymande,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minor Threat,
The Gun Club,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
JFA,
Ash Ra Tempel,
In Retrospect,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultravox,
Archie Shepp,
The Blackbyrds,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Procol Harum,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare,
La Düsseldorf,
The Happenings,
Franke,
Faraquet,
Massinfluence,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mantronix,
Outsiders,
K-Klass,
Panda Bear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sparks,
Sällskapet,
Organ,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
Sugar Minott,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Bananas,
Susan Cadogan,
Tommy Roe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sister Nancy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kenny Larkin,
The Count Five,
Television,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.