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 Malta and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eli Mardock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Franke,
Eurythmics,
Zero Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Television Personalities,
The Last Poets,
The Blues Magoos,
Bill Wells,
Minny Pops,
Lindisfarne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suburban Knight,
The Monks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Golliwogs,
Lalann,
The Music Machine,
D'Angelo,
Rapeman,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Neu!,
Zapp,
R.M.O.,
Gichy Dan,
AZ,
X-Ray Spex,
Procol Harum,
Panda Bear,
Ralphi Rosario,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alton Ellis,
UT,
Bob Dylan,
The Cramps,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol,
The Walker Brothers,
Darondo,
New Order,
Chris Corsano,
Black Pus,
The Moody Blues,
The Motions,
Khruangbin,
JFA,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oblivians,
Faust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Offenders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.