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 Serbia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Alice Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skriet,
Tears for Fears,
Johnny Clarke,
Byron Stingily,
Slave,
Sixth Finger,
Bluetip,
Spoonie Gee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radio Birdman,
The Buckinghams,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Flipper,
Eric Dolphy,
Dead Boys,
Todd Terry,
Eurythmics,
Brass Construction,
Freddie Wadling,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound,
Warsaw,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Drexciya,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Warren Ellis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Davy DMX,
Siglo XX,
Al Stewart,
Pharoah Sanders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
The New Christs,
Echospace,
K-Klass,
Intrusion,
Dawn Penn,
Television,
Black Pus,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sex Pistols,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mantronix,
B.T. Express,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.