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 Oman and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Aaron Thompson,
The Angels of Light,
Ralphi Rosario,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ornette Coleman,
Essential Logic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alphaville,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Prince Buster,
Severed Heads,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mars,
The Techniques,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tommy Roe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Last Poets,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Thee Headcoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Camouflage,
the Fania All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Hill,
John Lydon,
John Foxx,
Robert Hood,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
Donald Byrd,
Max Romeo,
The Names,
Agent Orange,
Josef K,
Index,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantaleimon,
R.M.O.,
The Wake,
Joey Negro,
B.T. Express,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sister Nancy,
The Electric Prunes,
Rufus Thomas,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pylon,
Black Pus,
Roy Ayers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gladiators,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.