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 Brunei and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron 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 The Sonics to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Shuggie Otis,
Maurizio,
Bill Near,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pretty Things,
Excepter,
Wolf Eyes,
Young Marble Giants,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Cluster,
Roxy Music,
Crime,
Symarip,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
Scan 7,
Bobby Womack,
Rapeman,
Matthew Bourne,
Glenn Branca,
Scrapy,
Anakelly,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pierre Henry,
Hasil Adkins,
This Heat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Fraelich,
Susan Cadogan,
Rosa Yemen,
the Association,
Toni Rubio,
D'Angelo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minnie Riperton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bronski Beat,
Fatback Band,
Brass Construction,
June of 44,
The Associates,
Kenny Larkin,
Hoover,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
the Normal,
Severed Heads,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Ituana,
Archie Shepp,
Popol Vuh,
Lucky Dragons,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.