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 Comoros and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Alison Limerick 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
Depeche Mode,
X-Ray Spex,
Cluster,
The Fall,
Mantronix,
John Holt,
Marine Girls,
Bill Wells,
Todd Terry,
Groovy Waters,
June Days,
Maleditus Sound,
Fela Kuti,
Visage,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eurythmics,
Ponytail,
Bob Dylan,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Can,
Darondo,
the Swans,
Pulsallama,
The Kinks,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zero Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Sixth Finger,
Wire,
Funkadelic,
In Retrospect,
The Toasters,
MC5,
Neu!,
Neil Young,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
Scientists,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
EPMD,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sarah Menescal,
Camberwell Now,
Con Funk Shun,
The Durutti Column,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Fatback Band,
Mr. Review,
DJ Sneak,
Tears for Fears,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.