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 Pakistan and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Niagra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Black Moon,
Technova,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Maurizio,
Underground Resistance,
Agent Orange,
Barry Ungar,
Kas Product,
Accadde A,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Severed Heads,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
AZ,
Intrusion,
Al Stewart,
Sandy B,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Massinfluence,
Pole,
Chrome,
Yaz,
The Trojans,
The Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cheater Slicks,
Aaron Thompson,
China Crisis,
Tears for Fears,
Tres Demented,
Quantec,
The Techniques,
L. Decosne,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Masters at Work,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June Days,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
Lower 48,
Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
Fear,
John Cale,
Mark Hollis,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.