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 Kuwait and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the rap 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Donny Hathaway,
David Bowie,
Livin' Joy,
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Thompson Twins,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Bourne,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
Camouflage,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Second Layer,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bang On A Can,
Barry Ungar,
the Sonics,
Icehouse,
James White and The Blacks,
Pagans,
The Kinks,
Aloha Tigers,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
Monks,
Little Man,
Scientists,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
Flash Fearless,
Pantytec,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Darondo,
Erykah Badu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Alarm Clocks,
Don Cherry,
Amon Düül,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Faust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Alison Limerick,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.