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 Singapore and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Donny Hathaway to the jazz 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deepchord,
Intrusion,
The Litter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Livin' Joy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Raincoats,
Yellowson,
Patti Smith,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt,
The Fall,
The Wake,
Fad Gadget,
Eddi Front,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Hasil Adkins,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Quantec,
The Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
The Kinks,
Oblivians,
Tim Buckley,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
The Birthday Party,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yaz,
The Move,
Avey Tare,
Popol Vuh,
Das Ding,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aural Exciters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Toni Rubio,
Alphaville,
Mission of Burma,
Warren Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Residents,
Joe Finger,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
The Martian,
Dennis Brown,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Japan,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.