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 Congo and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wire,
Livin' Joy,
Guru Guru,
Smog,
Dark Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skriet,
Grey Daturas,
Half Japanese,
Ultimate Spinach,
Index,
The Tremeloes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scott Walker,
The Happenings,
Peter and Kerry,
The Music Machine,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fuzztones,
Black Sheep,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Red Krayola,
the Swans,
Gang of Four,
the Normal,
DJ Style,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minny Pops,
Aaron Thompson,
Heaven 17,
The Beau Brummels,
Moebius,
Black Flag,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Zeros,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
Boredoms,
Bobby Womack,
Henry Cow,
The Star Department,
The New Christs,
The Selecter,
The Durutti Column,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kerri Chandler,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.