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 Bolivia and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fatback Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Faraquet,
Guru Guru,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
Suicide,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dead C,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moleskins,
Average White Band,
Dark Day,
the Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sparks,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Hill,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fall,
Robert Hood,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
The Vogues,
H. Thieme,
the Bar-Kays,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gories,
Banda Bassotti,
Outsiders,
Mo-Dettes,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
Ice-T,
Sixth Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Sound Behaviour,
Khruangbin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Bananas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pretty Things,
the Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Pierre Henry,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
the Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
Slick Rick,
Marc Almond,
Ohio Players,
Essential Logic,
Pere Ubu,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.