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 Sierra Leone and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 Bush Tetras to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Deakin,
Liliput,
Fear,
The Red Krayola,
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Residents,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
Minutemen,
Deepchord,
Nils Olav,
Dave Gahan,
Sound Behaviour,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
E-Dancer,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Magma,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
Parry Music,
Josef K,
Erasure,
The Gories,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wolf Eyes,
DNA,
Babytalk,
Archie Shepp,
Moss Icon,
The J.B.'s,
Lucky Dragons,
Lower 48,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
Symarip,
Technova,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
In Retrospect,
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
Urselle,
Sex Pistols,
Buzzcocks,
Altered Images,
Lightning Bolt,
Crash Course in Science,
AZ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.