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 Senegal and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron 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 The Kinks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Camouflage,
Arthur Verocai,
Al Stewart,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Parrish,
Bill Wells,
Sister Nancy,
Lebanon Hanover,
R.M.O.,
Sam Rivers,
Goldenarms,
Can,
Girls At Our Best!,
Albert Ayler,
the Normal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
La Düsseldorf,
Unrelated Segments,
Circle Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül,
Mantronix,
Shuggie Otis,
T.S.O.L.,
Minutemen,
cv313,
Jacob Miller,
Charles Mingus,
The Music Machine,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
Harmonia,
Piero Umiliani,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Darondo,
The Mummies,
Kas Product,
Nik Kershaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
Monks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Das Ding,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultravox,
Skarface,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.