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 Swaziland and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Pretty Things to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
Black Pus,
Qualms,
Grey Daturas,
Fluxion,
Ohio Players,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Sun Ra,
Kas Product,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
Cal Tjader,
the Fania All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Radiohead,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Au Pairs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DJ Style,
Cheater Slicks,
Siglo XX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Adolescents,
Maleditus Sound,
Faraquet,
The Saints,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Skriet,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gladiators,
Joensuu 1685,
Moebius,
Organ,
Barrington Levy,
the Slits,
The Real Kids,
B.T. Express,
the Sonics,
Godley & Creme,
Kaleidoscope,
Lightning Bolt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Audionom,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mojo Men,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boredoms,
The Beau Brummels,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Marc Almond,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quando Quango,
Guru Guru,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reuben Wilson,
Lalann,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxette,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.