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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kas Product to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Das Ding,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marvin Gaye,
Quantec,
Lou Reed,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
Japan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yellowson,
John Foxx,
The Modern Lovers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glenn Branca,
New Age Steppers,
The Move,
Black Moon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Surgeon,
The J.B.'s,
The Walker Brothers,
Franke,
Robert Hood,
The Pop Group,
D'Angelo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funkadelic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eddi Front,
Roxy Music,
The Birthday Party,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Procol Harum,
Youth Brigade,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
The Barracudas,
Minutemen,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pantaleimon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magma,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Steve Hackett,
X-101,
E-Dancer,
Barry Ungar,
Arthur Verocai,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.