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 Cairo.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Captain Beefheart 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 The Golliwogs to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Darondo,
Oneida,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Organ,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
Ossler,
Lou Christie,
the Bar-Kays,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dead C,
The Young Rascals,
John Cale,
Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
Eurythmics,
Niagra,
Eden Ahbez,
James White and The Blacks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pulsallama,
Jeru the Damaja,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Lynne,
Albert Ayler,
Prince Buster,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed,
Hashim,
Black Pus,
David McCallum,
Gichy Dan,
The Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
The Cure,
Dennis Brown,
The Doobie Brothers,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zero Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
The Offenders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
Radio Birdman,
Magazine,
Rekid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Q65,
DNA,
Scrapy,
The Fortunes,
Basic Channel,
Anakelly,
Au Pairs,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
The Grass Roots,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.