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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 The Modern Lovers to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mars,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blues Magoos,
The Trojans,
Moss Icon,
Gang Starr,
T.S.O.L.,
Danielle Patucci,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Sherman,
The J.B.'s,
Minny Pops,
Steve Hackett,
Connie Case,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wings,
Blake Baxter,
Adolescents,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wally Richardson,
Sällskapet,
Pantytec,
Jandek,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Nico,
Bauhaus,
Brick,
Todd Rundgren,
Brand Nubian,
Black Flag,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Hill,
Rakim,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang of Four,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cowsills,
Grey Daturas,
Au Pairs,
Aaron Thompson,
The Wake,
New Order,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Association,
Faust,
Young Marble Giants,
Patti Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chrome,
Babytalk,
Alton Ellis,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.