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 Honduras and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Popol Vuh,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slits,
UT,
John Lydon,
Ornette Coleman,
Rapeman,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
Bush Tetras,
The Fuzztones,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
Chrome,
Soft Cell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Anakelly,
MDC,
Altered Images,
Nico,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
KRS-One,
Amazonics,
Mantronix,
Camberwell Now,
Jandek,
Pantaleimon,
Urselle,
Godley & Creme,
The Moleskins,
Lucky Dragons,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Graham Central Station,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
These Immortal Souls,
One Last Wish,
Susan Cadogan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gap Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echospace,
The Zeros,
John Foxx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Pus,
The Invisible,
Make Up,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Flag,
Donny Hathaway,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Quando Quango,
Marc Almond,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.