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 Ecuador and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Dead Boys 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Godley & Creme,
The Smoke,
Black Sheep,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Residents,
the Sonics,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slave,
Panda Bear,
Rotary Connection,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeru the Damaja,
Howard Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Q and Not U,
Grey Daturas,
Black Bananas,
Country Teasers,
Urselle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moby Grape,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rapeman,
Boredoms,
The Angels of Light,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
The Golliwogs,
Bluetip,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
Moebius,
The Moleskins,
Jandek,
Cybotron,
the Swans,
Infiniti,
The Names,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
James Chance & The Contortions,
These Immortal Souls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Evens,
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
Iggy Pop,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.