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 Singapore and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nick Fraelich to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Jawbox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Chris & Cosey,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
48th St. Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Symarip,
Quadrant,
Black Moon,
Supertramp,
The Wake,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
Grauzone,
Massinfluence,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spoonie Gee,
Barbara Tucker,
Au Pairs,
David Axelrod,
Faraquet,
New Age Steppers,
Joy Division,
Sonic Youth,
Tom Boy,
Tres Demented,
Mars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Audionom,
The Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Davy DMX,
The Motions,
B.T. Express,
Marine Girls,
Swell Maps,
Patti Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
F. McDonald,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
UT,
Alphaville,
Can,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric Dolphy,
K-Klass,
The Zeros,
The Evens,
Pierre Henry,
Rosa Yemen,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.