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 Sri Lanka and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 48th St. Collective to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Ronan,
Hasil Adkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Anthony Braxton,
FM Einheit,
The Beau Brummels,
Reagan Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Pus,
kango's stein massive,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hardrive,
Marvin Gaye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
Underground Resistance,
ABBA,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Sherman,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick May,
Camberwell Now,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radiohead,
Organ,
The Victims,
Janne Schatter,
Interpol,
Fat Boys,
Fear,
Jacob Miller,
The Cramps,
E-Dancer,
Franke,
Ice-T,
Bluetip,
Essential Logic,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Pulsallama,
Steve Hackett,
Erykah Badu,
Black Moon,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.