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 Nicaragua and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 Blake Baxter to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mad Mike,
The Seeds,
Outsiders,
Gichy Dan,
Drexciya,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ituana,
The Evens,
Cal Tjader,
The Mummies,
The Kinks,
Ponytail,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flamin' Groovies,
Matthew Bourne,
June Days,
Jerry's Kids,
Technova,
Joy Division,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swell Maps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Tremeloes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Order,
Soul II Soul,
The Mojo Men,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Anakelly,
Severed Heads,
The Cowsills,
Radiohead,
Bobby Sherman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultravox,
Monks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Cale,
Roy Ayers,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.