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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dirtbombs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pretty Things,
Minnie Riperton,
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
New Age Steppers,
OOIOO,
Anakelly,
Oblivians,
Liliput,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skarface,
Suburban Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Ludus,
Fluxion,
New Order,
The Names,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül II,
Aswad,
Jesper Dahlback,
Byron Stingily,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Swans,
Skriet,
Aural Exciters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roxy Music,
This Heat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
R.M.O.,
Los Fastidios,
The Searchers,
John Holt,
Ultravox,
Nik Kershaw,
Shuggie Otis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Malaria!,
Monolake,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skaos,
Cal Tjader,
H. Thieme,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Connie Case,
Stereo Dub,
Dual Sessions,
Slave,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.