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 Seychelles and from New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic 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?
Infiniti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
The Velvet Underground,
Marmalade,
The Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Roxette,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Clarke,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Terry,
Joe Finger,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Wings,
Wolf Eyes,
The Zeros,
Neil Young,
8 Eyed Spy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eli Mardock,
Zapp,
Radiohead,
Ronnie Foster,
The Trojans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
Y Pants,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Fela Kuti,
Intrusion,
Robert Görl,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy Collins,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Searchers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yaz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Yazoo,
Oblivians,
Scan 7,
Q and Not U,
Second Layer,
Hasil Adkins,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.