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 Ivory Coast and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 K-Klass to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Zeros,
Grey Daturas,
Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Warren Ellis,
Hashim,
Monolake,
The Searchers,
Alison Limerick,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Piero Umiliani,
Inner City,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Guru Guru,
Sugar Minott,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Near,
Stiv Bators,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Smooth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Busters,
The Fuzztones,
Hot Snakes,
Harry Pussy,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Mills,
Nik Kershaw,
Stereo Dub,
Heaven 17,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cramps,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marine Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
FM Einheit,
Model 500,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Albert Ayler,
Althea and Donna,
The Tremeloes,
OOIOO,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus,
Franke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Almond,
Suburban Knight,
The Remains,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.