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 Tunisia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Japan to the rap 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Gong,
Stetsasonic,
the Germs,
Swans,
Maurizio,
Blake Baxter,
Surgeon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marmalade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faust,
The Gun Club,
Althea and Donna,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
Lyres,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quadrant,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Index,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
ABC,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
The Birthday Party,
The Mummies,
Jawbox,
Neil Young,
CMW,
The Beau Brummels,
Gichy Dan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eve St. Jones,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Reed,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Public Enemy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
cv313,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Halsall,
Swell Maps,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Index,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
the Swans,
Black Pus,
The Count Five,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shuggie Otis,
Hasil Adkins,
Roger Hodgson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.