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 Macedonia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the grime 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Malaria!,
Ultravox,
Bobby Byrd,
The Beau Brummels,
Porter Ricks,
Fear,
Zero Boys,
Mantronix,
Talk Talk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cluster,
Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Silicon Teens,
Vladislav Delay,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hashim,
New Order,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Sugar Minott,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Kurtis Blow,
Mandrill,
Guru Guru,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mark Hollis,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jerry's Kids,
Trumans Water,
Panda Bear,
The Doobie Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Maleditus Sound,
The Count Five,
Average White Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
Desert Stars,
Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vainqueur,
Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Standells,
Aswad,
Quadrant,
The J.B.'s,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joyce Sims,
Young Marble Giants,
The Associates,
Niagra,
Minny Pops,
Peter and Kerry,
Massinfluence,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.