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 Morocco and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 The Leaves to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
Black Pus,
Jerry's Kids,
Desert Stars,
Babytalk,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Bowie,
Drexciya,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Association,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joy Division,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
In Retrospect,
Hardrive,
Delta 5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Royal Trux,
Qualms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ken Boothe,
Glenn Branca,
The Stooges,
The Techniques,
Crash Course in Science,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
Interpol,
Vainqueur,
Pagans,
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Motions,
Man Parrish,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
Newcleus,
Deakin,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
Monolake,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Magazine,
E-Dancer,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
The Invisible,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.