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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Young Marble Giants to the techno 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Joyce Sims,
The Star Department,
The Fall,
Jeff Mills,
Eve St. Jones,
Symarip,
Mission of Burma,
Jawbox,
the Association,
Slick Rick,
The Residents,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smiths,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Music Machine,
The Moleskins,
Porter Ricks,
The Gories,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
Tres Demented,
ABC,
The Toasters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pole,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stereo Dub,
Deakin,
Wolf Eyes,
Cal Tjader,
Freddie Wadling,
Underground Resistance,
Gang of Four,
Little Man,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lyres,
Ultravox,
Erykah Badu,
The Selecter,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Hasil Adkins,
Organ,
Lindisfarne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q and Not U,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
Neil Young,
Procol Harum,
Nick Fraelich,
Goldenarms,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris Corsano,
The Offenders,
Easy Going,
The Black Dice,
Parry Music,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.