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 Peru and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mr. Review to the disco 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Style,
Accadde A,
Popol Vuh,
Television,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Al Stewart,
Connie Case,
Warren Ellis,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Beasts of Bourbon,
a-ha,
Whodini,
Graham Central Station,
Buzzcocks,
Y Pants,
Terry Callier,
The Slits,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
The Remains,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T.S.O.L.,
Moss Icon,
Joy Division,
The Toasters,
AZ,
Deakin,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Oblivians,
Wings,
Brand Nubian,
Magma,
PIL,
Arcadia,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
The Residents,
Kayak,
Mandrill,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pussy Galore,
Infiniti,
The Gun Club,
Morten Harket,
Wasted Youth,
Minutemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fluxion,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.