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 Dominica and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Unwound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Davy DMX,
Infiniti,
Barry Ungar,
Ice-T,
Intrusion,
Country Teasers,
DJ Style,
Black Moon,
Average White Band,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül,
ABBA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
FM Einheit,
Marshall Jefferson,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
The Litter,
The Black Dice,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins,
Danielle Patucci,
The Electric Prunes,
The Star Department,
X-Ray Spex,
Hot Snakes,
Nirvana,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Smoke,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grauzone,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Freddie Wadling,
Scott Walker,
Excepter,
The Cure,
Vladislav Delay,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Fat Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Slick Rick,
Section 25,
The Dirtbombs,
T.S.O.L.,
Skaos,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siglo XX,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
Sugar Minott,
Sight & Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Almond,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.