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 Kiribati and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dead C to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Morten Harket,
Moby Grape,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
The Leaves,
The Last Poets,
the Human League,
Visage,
Aswad,
Colin Newman,
Scientists,
Joyce Sims,
Vladislav Delay,
The United States of America,
The Velvet Underground,
Rotary Connection,
The Beau Brummels,
Kaleidoscope,
Index,
Main Source,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Christie,
The Move,
The American Breed,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Wings,
Ice-T,
Barrington Levy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
Sam Rivers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roger Hodgson,
Boz Scaggs,
Brick,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronnie Foster,
Depeche Mode,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
These Immortal Souls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Buzzcocks,
the Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DNA,
Nico,
Marvin Gaye,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Rundgren,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.