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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the punk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed 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?
The Litter,
Gang Starr,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Main Source,
The Gories,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mad Mike,
The Techniques,
David Bowie,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronan,
Y Pants,
The Zeros,
Interpol,
Yaz,
B.T. Express,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
Yazoo,
Iggy Pop,
Subhumans,
Al Stewart,
Flash Fearless,
Qualms,
China Crisis,
Boredoms,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Ohio Players,
Mary Jane Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Raincoats,
The Mojo Men,
Gong,
Black Pus,
Bill Wells,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
Talk Talk,
June Days,
The United States of America,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
Howard Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deakin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skriet,
Essential Logic,
Gichy Dan,
The Tremeloes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.