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 Cape Verde and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 Alice Coltrane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
Fugazi,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rites of Spring,
Ultra Naté,
Harry Pussy,
The Happenings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
In Retrospect,
Yellowson,
Sugar Minott,
the Bar-Kays,
Flipper,
Y Pants,
The Knickerbockers,
Henry Cow,
The Blues Magoos,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pierre Henry,
Mission of Burma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
Liliput,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Buzzcocks,
Popol Vuh,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacob Miller,
Mark Hollis,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Zapp,
Depeche Mode,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
Black Flag,
The Human League,
Gichy Dan,
Los Fastidios,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swans,
The Techniques,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
Talk Talk,
Hot Snakes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Siglo XX,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Golliwogs,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.