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 Papua New Guinea and from New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Divine Comedy to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magazine,
Fat Boys,
The Cramps,
X-101,
Basic Channel,
Joe Finger,
Royal Trux,
Fad Gadget,
The Birthday Party,
K-Klass,
Young Marble Giants,
Skriet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scrapy,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
The Durutti Column,
Marcia Griffiths,
8 Eyed Spy,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yazoo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Parry Music,
Gang Starr,
Chris Corsano,
Essential Logic,
Desert Stars,
Rapeman,
Swell Maps,
A Certain Ratio,
Swans,
Dave Gahan,
Eric B and Rakim,
UT,
Erykah Badu,
Motorama,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultimate Spinach,
World's Most,
T.S.O.L.,
U.S. Maple,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yaz,
Rekid,
Boredoms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
OOIOO,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.