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 Gabon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 The Doobie Brothers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Divine Comedy,
Tim Buckley,
Ultra Naté,
Swell Maps,
Accadde A,
Crime,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Archie Shepp,
Outsiders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Surgeon,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Soft Machine,
Lou Christie,
Depeche Mode,
Peter & Gordon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dennis Brown,
Suicide,
Cal Tjader,
Groovy Waters,
This Heat,
The Slits,
Skarface,
Lower 48,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
Deepchord,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marc Almond,
The Durutti Column,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
John Foxx,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry's Kids,
Charles Mingus,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mandrill,
Maleditus Sound,
Visage,
Chris & Cosey,
Magazine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mission of Burma,
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joy Division,
The Modern Lovers,
James White and The Blacks,
Rekid,
Jacob Miller,
EPMD,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.