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 Paraguay and from Calgary.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Johnny Clarke to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye,
Cluster,
Sixth Finger,
Pantaleimon,
Hot Snakes,
New York Dolls,
Delta 5,
Angry Samoans,
Pere Ubu,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visage,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grauzone,
Lightning Bolt,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
the Association,
Lalann,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Black Pus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dawn Penn,
Fad Gadget,
Deakin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jerry's Kids,
Skriet,
Davy DMX,
Mr. Review,
This Heat,
Unwound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Charles Mingus,
R.M.O.,
The Gap Band,
Shoche,
Dennis Brown,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mummies,
Harry Pussy,
Warsaw,
Bill Wells,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Youth Brigade,
Warren Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Drexciya,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zero Boys,
Black Bananas,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.