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 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Beau Brummels to the disco 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Basic Channel,
Blake Baxter,
The Monochrome Set,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
Blossom Toes,
Pussy Galore,
Joe Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cowsills,
Japan,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boz Scaggs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Electric Light Orchestra,
In Retrospect,
Man Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Terry,
Swell Maps,
Gang Starr,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brick,
Aaron Thompson,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Average White Band,
Suburban Knight,
Second Layer,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Style,
This Heat,
Junior Murvin,
Hashim,
Con Funk Shun,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Womack,
John Holt,
L. Decosne,
The Beau Brummels,
Rotary Connection,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Copeland,
Dave Gahan,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.