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 Egypt and from Tehran.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 John Cale to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
L. Decosne,
Eurythmics,
The Walker Brothers,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Byrd,
Camouflage,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare,
Radiohead,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Golliwogs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
H. Thieme,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Al Stewart,
The Smoke,
Ultravox,
Black Flag,
Roxette,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül,
Kool Moe Dee,
Funkadelic,
Sister Nancy,
The Gun Club,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reagan Youth,
Von Mondo,
Jacques Brel,
Masters at Work,
Basic Channel,
Essential Logic,
Rosa Yemen,
Junior Murvin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television,
Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Tim Buckley,
Andrew Hill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy Collins,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mad Mike,
Fear,
Jesper Dahlback,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.