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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the techno 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cal Tjader,
The Cure,
Crooked Eye,
Jacques Brel,
The Fall,
Mantronix,
Underground Resistance,
Bootsy Collins,
Hot Snakes,
Roxette,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Delta 5,
Soul II Soul,
Sarah Menescal,
Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Green,
the Swans,
Fear,
Motorama,
Smog,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
Kas Product,
Johnny Clarke,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
Gong,
The Walker Brothers,
Altered Images,
U.S. Maple,
Qualms,
The American Breed,
Liliput,
Shoche,
The Monks,
the Normal,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Prunes,
The Pop Group,
Gichy Dan,
The Martian,
The Litter,
Stiv Bators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Todd Terry,
Roy Ayers,
Interpol,
Oblivians,
The Misunderstood,
Basic Channel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
The Selecter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dark Day,
Matthew Bourne,
Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Joy Division,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.