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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Country Teasers to the rock 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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABC,
The American Breed,
Excepter,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Womack,
Morten Harket,
Joensuu 1685,
the Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Vainqueur,
Arcadia,
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
X-101,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Holt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lower 48,
Infiniti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Bar-Kays,
The Leaves,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crash Course in Science,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Eddi Front,
Lou Reed,
Quantec,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Bluetip,
Bob Dylan,
The Mojo Men,
The Neon Judgement,
the Slits,
The Pop Group,
The Motions,
Animal Collective,
the Normal,
R.M.O.,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.