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 Glasgow.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 OOIOO to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ituana,
The Monochrome Set,
Section 25,
Black Bananas,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review,
Letta Mbulu,
Juan Atkins,
Bauhaus,
Hashim,
Grauzone,
Joensuu 1685,
Arcadia,
Tubeway Army,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Foxx,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wings,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Simply Red,
Shuggie Otis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Procol Harum,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sonic Youth,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shoche,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ossler,
Wally Richardson,
Supertramp,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delta 5,
Kurtis Blow,
Stiv Bators,
The Divine Comedy,
The Seeds,
Moebius,
The Doobie Brothers,
Au Pairs,
The Count Five,
the Bar-Kays,
The Remains,
Jacob Miller,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.