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 Mauritius and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Nas to the grunge 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Slick Rick,
David Bowie,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fat Boys,
Loose Ends,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Second Layer,
Josef K,
Tommy Roe,
Lungfish,
Wally Richardson,
Glenn Branca,
The Techniques,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Leonard Cohen,
Nik Kershaw,
The Buckinghams,
Crooked Eye,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Clear Light,
Bronski Beat,
The Selecter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Young Marble Giants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minor Threat,
Main Source,
Kaleidoscope,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Wire,
Soulsonic Force,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
The Cure,
Model 500,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantytec,
The Fire Engines,
Audionom,
Siglo XX,
Gichy Dan,
Eddi Front,
Talk Talk,
ABC,
Sällskapet,
Gang of Four,
Youth Brigade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cluster,
The Seeds,
Aaron Thompson,
The Music Machine,
Mandrill,
The Real Kids,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fela Kuti,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.