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 Czech Republic and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Moebius to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
John Holt,
Connie Case,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Absolute Body Control,
Deakin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Janne Schatter,
Mandrill,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Lindisfarne,
The Searchers,
T. Rex,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lower 48,
Mo-Dettes,
Y Pants,
Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
the Germs,
The Offenders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rod Modell,
John Coltrane,
Tommy Roe,
The Velvet Underground,
Bush Tetras,
Vladislav Delay,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Public Enemy,
Crime,
Malaria!,
the Sonics,
Lakeside,
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
Susan Cadogan,
Nico,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Lydon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arthur Verocai,
The Standells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Oblivians,
Howard Jones,
Robert Hood,
B.T. Express,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.