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 Panama and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Arcadia to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Divine Comedy,
Wolf Eyes,
Thompson Twins,
Symarip,
Rufus Thomas,
The Real Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Funky Four + One,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moebius,
Terry Callier,
FM Einheit,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Human League,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sight & Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Liliput,
The Dirtbombs,
Q65,
Flash Fearless,
World's Most,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Bourne,
Audionom,
Man Parrish,
Cymande,
cv313,
Cheater Slicks,
Stetsasonic,
Josef K,
Tom Boy,
Masters at Work,
Erykah Badu,
Ten City,
Rod Modell,
X-102,
The Doors,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Walker Brothers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Halsall,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lower 48,
Pierre Henry,
L. Decosne,
The Kinks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Television,
David McCallum,
Black Pus,
Grauzone,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.