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 Equatorial Guinea and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 The Birthday Party to the rock 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Dual Sessions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott Heron,
Malaria!,
Godley & Creme,
Cheater Slicks,
KRS-One,
Yellowson,
Cameo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monochrome Set,
Danielle Patucci,
Yazoo,
Jawbox,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Swans,
Moebius,
Roy Ayers,
Average White Band,
The Techniques,
Roxy Music,
Surgeon,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Hood,
Don Cherry,
Skaos,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Archie Shepp,
Intrusion,
Desert Stars,
The Star Department,
Circle Jerks,
Y Pants,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tomorrow,
Tears for Fears,
Motorama,
The Vogues,
The Gun Club,
Ultra Naté,
Camberwell Now,
The Slits,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Bob Dylan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
Freddie Wadling,
Moss Icon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Michelle Simonal,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cure,
Altered Images,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.