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 Lithuania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Germs,
Bill Near,
Intrusion,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
Black Pus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Blackbyrds,
48th St. Collective,
Japan,
Roxy Music,
Lalann,
Nick Fraelich,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
Tim Buckley,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
Aaron Thompson,
The Count Five,
Adolescents,
Oblivians,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sugar Minott,
The Move,
Anakelly,
Tears for Fears,
Rakim,
Fear,
Niagra,
Yusef Lateef,
T.S.O.L.,
Parry Music,
Funky Four + One,
It's A Beautiful Day,
KRS-One,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Invisible,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joey Negro,
Nas,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Neon Judgement,
Model 500,
Sonic Youth,
Television,
The Names,
Jawbox,
Electric Prunes,
Thompson Twins,
Anthony Braxton,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.