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 Nepal 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Porter Ricks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Gong,
The Neon Judgement,
X-Ray Spex,
The Searchers,
Absolute Body Control,
Severed Heads,
Tim Buckley,
The Busters,
The Slackers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Henry Cow,
Anakelly,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marshall Jefferson,
David McCallum,
Das Ding,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fugazi,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minny Pops,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
Minnie Riperton,
Minor Threat,
The Blues Magoos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Massinfluence,
Camouflage,
The Gories,
Toni Rubio,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Saints,
Scion,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Clear Light,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Neil Young,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yaz,
Peter & Gordon,
June Days,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Foxx,
Hardrive,
The Offenders,
Max Romeo,
Sparks,
John Cale,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.