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 Poland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New York Dolls,
Aloha Tigers,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Halsall,
a-ha,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amon Düül,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Association,
The Names,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
Eric Copeland,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Skaos,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Crash Course in Science,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Albert Ayler,
Reuben Wilson,
This Heat,
Yazoo,
Saccharine Trust,
Animal Collective,
Rapeman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quadrant,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Move,
Hashim,
Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cure,
Mission of Burma,
Pulsallama,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Standells,
The Doors,
The Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mandrill,
Slick Rick,
Pylon,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.