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 Bulgaria and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Brothers Johnson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Interpol,
D'Angelo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Intrusion,
Khruangbin,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Hood,
Harry Pussy,
Panda Bear,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DNA,
Main Source,
Bauhaus,
Ludus,
Lucky Dragons,
Isaac Hayes,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
The Saints,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
La Düsseldorf,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pop Group,
Spandau Ballet,
E-Dancer,
Bush Tetras,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
Howard Jones,
a-ha,
Procol Harum,
Amazonics,
The Names,
A Certain Ratio,
Eden Ahbez,
Leonard Cohen,
Television Personalities,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra,
Dennis Brown,
The Fugs,
The Buckinghams,
Althea and Donna,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Y Pants,
Section 25,
Franke,
The Mojo Men,
Porter Ricks,
Hasil Adkins,
Technova,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Teasers,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.