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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Lindisfarne,
Kerri Chandler,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moss Icon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Invisible,
Goldenarms,
Harry Pussy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oblivians,
Kaleidoscope,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arcadia,
The Pretty Things,
Fugazi,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pagans,
R.M.O.,
Archie Shepp,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yellowson,
Jacob Miller,
The Smoke,
Blake Baxter,
Circle Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
Moby Grape,
Ornette Coleman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Carl Craig,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
Nick Fraelich,
Lyres,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Pussy Galore,
the Normal,
Funky Four + One,
Mission of Burma,
Unrelated Segments,
Connie Case,
Gichy Dan,
Severed Heads,
Gong,
John Foxx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Busters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hot Snakes,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.