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 Grenada and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Peter and Kerry to the rock 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Moon,
cv313,
Deadbeat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Banda Bassotti,
Circle Jerks,
Alton Ellis,
Funky Four + One,
The Mummies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fortunes,
Davy DMX,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smiths,
Lou Christie,
Sister Nancy,
The Names,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mr. Review,
Rotary Connection,
Quadrant,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Lydon,
Zapp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Metal Thangz,
Liliput,
Letta Mbulu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cameo,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed,
Sparks,
Lyres,
the Normal,
Harry Pussy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nick Fraelich,
The Busters,
Stiv Bators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gories,
These Immortal Souls,
Tres Demented,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Copeland,
The Invisible,
Aswad,
The Techniques,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.