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 Liechtenstein and from Accra.
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 Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Roger Hodgson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana,
Davy DMX,
The Modern Lovers,
Warsaw,
Crime,
Faust,
John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Man Parrish,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-101,
Ronnie Foster,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
The Red Krayola,
The Angels of Light,
Dual Sessions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
Blancmange,
D'Angelo,
The Stooges,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Smog,
Idris Muhammad,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül II,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Hutcherson,
L. Decosne,
The Smiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barry Ungar,
Tom Boy,
Scratch Acid,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.