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 Korea North and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Raincoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harmonia,
Marc Almond,
Qualms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Darondo,
The Toasters,
Theoretical Girls,
Soft Cell,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fall,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Hardrive,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aswad,
Juan Atkins,
The Associates,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pole,
The Offenders,
Rites of Spring,
The Knickerbockers,
Slave,
Sam Rivers,
The Walker Brothers,
the Slits,
Andrew Hill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Loose Ends,
The Motions,
Lindisfarne,
Robert Görl,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Siglo XX,
Massinfluence,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dead Boys,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Au Pairs,
Agent Orange,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.