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 Liberia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Normal to the grunge 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Ossler,
Guru Guru,
Todd Rundgren,
Delta 5,
Moss Icon,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
Crime,
The Smiths,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Star Department,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Human League,
MDC,
The Litter,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Grauzone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
Toni Rubio,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
Lightning Bolt,
The Pretty Things,
Fugazi,
John Holt,
Prince Buster,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Slits,
The Trojans,
Arab on Radar,
the Normal,
The Invisible,
Easy Going,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül,
Arcadia,
The Martian,
The Leaves,
The Music Machine,
The Gun Club,
The Golliwogs,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Suicide,
the Swans,
AZ,
The Red Krayola,
Procol Harum,
Graham Central Station,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.