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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 Sandy B to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Eric Copeland,
Tim Buckley,
The Saints,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
Agitation Free,
MC5,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Womack,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skaos,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dave Gahan,
The Zeros,
Pere Ubu,
the Soft Cell,
KRS-One,
In Retrospect,
T. Rex,
Derrick May,
Kaleidoscope,
Fela Kuti,
the Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Roxy Music,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Robert Görl,
Wasted Youth,
Swell Maps,
Simply Red,
Au Pairs,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
Eurythmics,
Basic Channel,
Alton Ellis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
The Gories,
Black Flag,
The Velvet Underground,
Rotary Connection,
The Fugs,
Wings,
Adolescents,
Das Ding,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skarface,
Josef K,
Bluetip,
The Fall,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.