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 Kyrgyzstan and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris Corsano to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
Harmonia,
The Music Machine,
Can,
The Star Department,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
Pussy Galore,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
The Cowsills,
Deakin,
Bootsy Collins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Babytalk,
Freddie Wadling,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
Joy Division,
Blossom Toes,
Prince Buster,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quantec,
Kerri Chandler,
Q65,
Guru Guru,
Ponytail,
Audionom,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Harry Pussy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
T.S.O.L.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lalann,
Camouflage,
The Fugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Theoretical Girls,
Schoolly D,
Patti Smith,
The Offenders,
The Gories,
Brothers Johnson,
Reuben Wilson,
Skarface,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.