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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Lebanon Hanover to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Leaves,
Cecil Taylor,
Reagan Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Cramps,
Oblivians,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jesper Dahlback,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Angry Samoans,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Fraelich,
Warsaw,
Marshall Jefferson,
Goldenarms,
The Stooges,
ABBA,
Funky Four + One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Swell Maps,
Von Mondo,
Don Cherry,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Parrish,
Urselle,
Andrew Hill,
Sarah Menescal,
Steve Hackett,
Chrome,
Nils Olav,
Section 25,
Adolescents,
Scrapy,
This Heat,
Pulsallama,
Cameo,
Ronan,
Bang On A Can,
Sight & Sound,
The Cure,
Second Layer,
Bobby Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Cluster,
Nas,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wasted Youth,
Swans,
Gang of Four,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.