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 Liechtenstein and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 The Moleskins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sex Pistols,
Heaven 17,
Soft Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Jeff Mills,
The Gap Band,
The Tremeloes,
Nik Kershaw,
Country Teasers,
Marmalade,
Gregory Isaacs,
World's Most,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dave Clark Five,
Buzzcocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tropical Tobacco,
Smog,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DNA,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lebanon Hanover,
Unrelated Segments,
The Searchers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eli Mardock,
Alice Coltrane,
Kas Product,
Magma,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Average White Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Trumans Water,
Animal Collective,
Eurythmics,
Crooked Eye,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Green,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dennis Brown,
La Düsseldorf,
The Angels of Light,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick May,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
Kenny Larkin,
John Cale,
Deadbeat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funky Four + One,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
Symarip,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.