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 Hungary and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Derrick Morgan to the dance 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Invisible,
Nils Olav,
Livin' Joy,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Massinfluence,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Qualms,
Godley & Creme,
Ponytail,
the Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Loose Ends,
Subhumans,
Sixth Finger,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harpers Bizarre,
Depeche Mode,
Jacques Brel,
Moby Grape,
Rotary Connection,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arthur Verocai,
Dark Day,
Aswad,
Fugazi,
Hot Snakes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface,
The Techniques,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Names,
The Litter,
Avey Tare,
Radiohead,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kenny Larkin,
Section 25,
Bill Near,
the Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grey Daturas,
Porter Ricks,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oneida,
Metal Thangz,
Altered Images,
H. Thieme,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.