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 Serbia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Lou Reed 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Suicide,
Sonic Youth,
Shoche,
Hot Snakes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Little Man,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lebanon Hanover,
Section 25,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
X-102,
Colin Newman,
Freddie Wadling,
Funky Four + One,
Fatback Band,
Cymande,
Malaria!,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cure,
Stetsasonic,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
Das Ding,
Eddi Front,
Lower 48,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Chris & Cosey,
Inner City,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Godley & Creme,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Young Rascals,
Scan 7,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Groovy Waters,
Circle Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Jawbox,
Jeff Mills,
the Association,
Man Parrish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New York Dolls,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Idris Muhammad,
Sugar Minott,
Skriet,
Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.