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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Youth Brigade,
Massinfluence,
The Last Poets,
Sonic Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harry Pussy,
8 Eyed Spy,
MDC,
Morten Harket,
Barrington Levy,
The Moody Blues,
Stiv Bators,
Tom Boy,
Wally Richardson,
The Divine Comedy,
Slick Rick,
The Velvet Underground,
Flipper,
Infiniti,
La Düsseldorf,
Talk Talk,
Arcadia,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vainqueur,
Wasted Youth,
ABBA,
The Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
The Slackers,
Television,
Popol Vuh,
Fluxion,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Monks,
The Remains,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
10cc,
Jandek,
Lindisfarne,
Nas,
The Mojo Men,
Nick Fraelich,
Babytalk,
Icehouse,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
The Evens,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Davy DMX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.