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 Guyana and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris Corsano,
F. McDonald,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
Inner City,
Procol Harum,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
The Motions,
The Dirtbombs,
The Music Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Supertramp,
Cybotron,
Eurythmics,
June of 44,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Von Mondo,
DJ Sneak,
the Normal,
Y Pants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Carl Craig,
LL Cool J,
Michelle Simonal,
Faust,
the Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Kerri Chandler,
Talk Talk,
These Immortal Souls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nico,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
Rod Modell,
Pulsallama,
Skriet,
Fugazi,
Con Funk Shun,
A Certain Ratio,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick May,
CMW,
Kayak,
Archie Shepp,
Half Japanese,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.