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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Harry Pussy to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magazine,
Von Mondo,
The Cure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Wolf Eyes,
Alison Limerick,
Andrew Hill,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Near,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
Crispian St. Peters,
MDC,
Fluxion,
Todd Terry,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moody Blues,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blake Baxter,
Main Source,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Freddie Wadling,
Ken Boothe,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
The Durutti Column,
Pet Shop Boys,
Organ,
Hoover,
The Real Kids,
The Selecter,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Birthday Party,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marvin Gaye,
Sugar Minott,
Stockholm Monsters,
Massinfluence,
Yusef Lateef,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dark Day,
Skarface,
the Swans,
Radiohead,
Symarip,
Underground Resistance,
Lower 48,
Barbara Tucker,
Minnie Riperton,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cluster,
Amon Düül II,
Charles Mingus,
Roger Hodgson,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.