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 Estonia and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Parrish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier 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?
Black Flag,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
Eli Mardock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Copeland,
The Birthday Party,
The Young Rascals,
Nas,
June of 44,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Excepter,
Suicide,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
The Invisible,
Das Ding,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maurizio,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
Marine Girls,
Icehouse,
Deepchord,
Grey Daturas,
New York Dolls,
Mantronix,
Goldenarms,
Reuben Wilson,
Hashim,
Derrick May,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Agitation Free,
the Bar-Kays,
OOIOO,
Jacob Miller,
Con Funk Shun,
China Crisis,
K-Klass,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers,
The Gap Band,
The Moody Blues,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crime,
Peter and Kerry,
the Slits,
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
Godley & Creme,
Rekid,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.