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 Rwanda and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Faraquet to the grime 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Crooked Eye,
Boredoms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
Marc Almond,
One Last Wish,
Oneida,
Animal Collective,
The Gun Club,
Connie Case,
Sparks,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Glenn Branca,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
Shoche,
Erykah Badu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Charles Mingus,
Main Source,
The Star Department,
Nation of Ulysses,
New Order,
Magma,
Fat Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
Anakelly,
Bang On A Can,
Wally Richardson,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Mr. Review,
Isaac Hayes,
Danielle Patucci,
Ponytail,
Vladislav Delay,
Chrome,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sonic Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
Black Moon,
Minnie Riperton,
Unwound,
Harmonia,
Harry Pussy,
Pylon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
John Foxx,
the Bar-Kays,
Khruangbin,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.