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 Iraq and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mars to the grunge 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Skaos,
Kaleidoscope,
Intrusion,
10cc,
Scan 7,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pylon,
Accadde A,
Niagra,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
The Busters,
Second Layer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aural Exciters,
The Zeros,
Drexciya,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter & Gordon,
Scratch Acid,
The Divine Comedy,
The Associates,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Reagan Youth,
R.M.O.,
The Grass Roots,
Moby Grape,
Swans,
Schoolly D,
Boredoms,
Y Pants,
Country Teasers,
Warren Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
Monolake,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
X-Ray Spex,
Chrome,
Chris Corsano,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
Lungfish,
Janne Schatter,
Idris Muhammad,
Public Image Ltd.,
In Retrospect,
The Move,
Davy DMX,
the Association,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.