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 Toronto.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 H. Thieme to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Doors,
Porter Ricks,
The Kinks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bronski Beat,
L. Decosne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
Skaos,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
Matthew Halsall,
Model 500,
Eddi Front,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bob Dylan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Evens,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
Amon Düül II,
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Finger,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tomorrow,
Pole,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Trojans,
Erykah Badu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DJ Style,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moss Icon,
Surgeon,
Albert Ayler,
F. McDonald,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Teasers,
T. Rex,
Jacob Miller,
Dawn Penn,
Deakin,
Slick Rick,
The Red Krayola,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
Patti Smith,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.