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 Ecuador and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Todd Terry to the grunge 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
The Knickerbockers,
Procol Harum,
Dave Gahan,
Johnny Clarke,
Quando Quango,
Animal Collective,
The Offenders,
Alison Limerick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun City Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ohio Players,
Bronski Beat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arcadia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blancmange,
Fluxion,
MDC,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barry Ungar,
The Music Machine,
Marc Almond,
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alton Ellis,
Archie Shepp,
Kurtis Blow,
Hardrive,
Janne Schatter,
Max Romeo,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Little Man,
The Real Kids,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ponytail,
Grauzone,
Zero Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Harmonia,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Lower 48,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Vogues,
the Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Christie,
Nils Olav,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
Grey Daturas,
Dark Day,
The Move,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.