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 Andorra and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Angry Samoans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun City Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
The Associates,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Goldenarms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
Niagra,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
Al Stewart,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
Chris Corsano,
The Dead C,
The Index,
Black Pus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric Copeland,
Sound Behaviour,
Smog,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Aswad,
Roger Hodgson,
Aural Exciters,
In Retrospect,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scan 7,
Hardrive,
Peter and Kerry,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
Eden Ahbez,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
Shoche,
Big Daddy Kane,
Television Personalities,
Lyres,
Bobby Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
The Tremeloes,
Ultra Naté,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.