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 Suriname and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Durutti Column to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dead Boys,
Surgeon,
Warren Ellis,
Matthew Bourne,
Minnie Riperton,
Youth Brigade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neil Young,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
The Walker Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
Bush Tetras,
New Order,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Grass Roots,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
The J.B.'s,
Maleditus Sound,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minutemen,
The Leaves,
Archie Shepp,
Das Ding,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stereo Dub,
Excepter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quantec,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Glenn Branca,
Kas Product,
Pantaleimon,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.