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 Uzbekistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Birthday Party to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Foxx,
Graham Central Station,
The Velvet Underground,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pulsallama,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
Au Pairs,
Magma,
Main Source,
The Standells,
DNA,
Hardrive,
The Modern Lovers,
Oblivians,
ABBA,
B.T. Express,
Eddi Front,
The Blackbyrds,
The Music Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Ossler,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Bourne,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
Symarip,
the Association,
Barry Ungar,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Wyatt,
Agitation Free,
KRS-One,
Piero Umiliani,
Urselle,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun City Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moleskins,
Warsaw,
Ronnie Foster,
Connie Case,
Sonic Youth,
Bluetip,
Monks,
John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roy Ayers,
The Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Dark Day,
Scott Walker,
ABC,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.