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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Popol Vuh to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Black Pus,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Roxette,
MDC,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stetsasonic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Slackers,
Deakin,
Outsiders,
The Music Machine,
Swans,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Warsaw,
Johnny Osbourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chrome,
Pantaleimon,
Althea and Donna,
Barrington Levy,
the Swans,
Alphaville,
Supertramp,
K-Klass,
B.T. Express,
Circle Jerks,
Fat Boys,
H. Thieme,
Gong,
Maurizio,
Idris Muhammad,
Blake Baxter,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Misunderstood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hot Snakes,
The Count Five,
Groovy Waters,
Godley & Creme,
Television,
Eden Ahbez,
Los Fastidios,
Pylon,
The Mojo Men,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Easy Going,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
These Immortal Souls,
Dennis Brown,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.