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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Surgeon to the electroclash 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Donald Byrd,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Pagans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lungfish,
Max Romeo,
John Foxx,
The Red Krayola,
Franke,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
Swans,
Procol Harum,
Audionom,
Public Enemy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kerrie Biddell,
PIL,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joy Division,
In Retrospect,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Golliwogs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echospace,
Boogie Down Productions,
Isaac Hayes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Judy Mowatt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sam Rivers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
Make Up,
These Immortal Souls,
The Misunderstood,
Section 25,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Slits,
Hasil Adkins,
H. Thieme,
Morten Harket,
Yazoo,
the Normal,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.