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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 Scientists to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Average White Band,
The Fall,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
Boredoms,
Marc Almond,
Joe Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fugs,
Black Moon,
The Mummies,
Harry Pussy,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ten City,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
Icehouse,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
David Bowie,
Funky Four + One,
Con Funk Shun,
Godley & Creme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter & Gordon,
Mad Mike,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
Cal Tjader,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Human League,
DJ Sneak,
The Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television Personalities,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Prunes,
John Foxx,
Pulsallama,
The Stooges,
Tres Demented,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
Derrick Morgan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Amon Düül II,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sonic Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
Skarface,
Sandy B,
The Index,
Rotary Connection,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.