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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Avey Tare to the rock 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
cv313,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Excepter,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
Howard Jones,
Jacob Miller,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Don Cherry,
Blossom Toes,
Sandy B,
Letta Mbulu,
the Swans,
T. Rex,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alphaville,
Isaac Hayes,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Rapeman,
Circle Jerks,
Arab on Radar,
Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
Barry Ungar,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Fania All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
Scott Walker,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erasure,
Archie Shepp,
Reagan Youth,
Rites of Spring,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Mills,
Fat Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
The Busters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Bob Dylan,
Lightning Bolt,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Theoretical Girls,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.