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 Vanuatu and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Saints to the rap 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
L. Decosne,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
Quadrant,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Depeche Mode,
Gichy Dan,
Au Pairs,
Negative Approach,
The Real Kids,
The Human League,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Excepter,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The New Christs,
Newcleus,
Ossler,
The Young Rascals,
Minor Threat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ice-T,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June of 44,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Smoke,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hoover,
Technova,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pere Ubu,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Sneak,
ABBA,
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Index,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
Josef K,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.