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 Swaziland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
Au Pairs,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Khruangbin,
Mandrill,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Sherman,
FM Einheit,
The Music Machine,
Von Mondo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
Guru Guru,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Durutti Column,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tim Buckley,
Althea and Donna,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Bourne,
Lower 48,
Mary Jane Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Near,
The New Christs,
Average White Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Procol Harum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Funkadelic,
the Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soul II Soul,
Cymande,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minnie Riperton,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Half Japanese,
Lindisfarne,
Crooked Eye,
T. Rex,
Sällskapet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacques Brel,
Accadde A,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deakin,
Q65,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.