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 Poland 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Kaleidoscope 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Funky Four + One,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Subhumans,
The Associates,
Public Enemy,
Television Personalities,
John Cale,
The Smoke,
Moss Icon,
Fugazi,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dave Gahan,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Buzzcocks,
Infiniti,
Icehouse,
Jerry's Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
Bush Tetras,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
Bauhaus,
Y Pants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gong,
Joensuu 1685,
Reuben Wilson,
Joey Negro,
Television,
Marc Almond,
Boz Scaggs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
kango's stein massive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Star Department,
Jeff Mills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
Ossler,
DNA,
Arcadia,
Half Japanese,
Todd Rundgren,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Pantytec,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.