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 Nauru and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar 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 Minny Pops to the disco 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II,
Juan Atkins,
Eurythmics,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
The Move,
Sandy B,
Hot Snakes,
The Leaves,
The Victims,
Black Flag,
Hashim,
Eric Copeland,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Prunes,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Clear Light,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
Tres Demented,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dave Gahan,
Section 25,
Fear,
Mark Hollis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David McCallum,
Public Enemy,
The Dead C,
D'Angelo,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
The Kinks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Quadrant,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Bourne,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Howard Jones,
Lou Christie,
Little Man,
David Bowie,
Rites of Spring,
Faust,
Anakelly,
Jacques Brel,
Matthew Halsall,
Ken Boothe,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
DJ Style,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.