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 United States and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 The Trojans to the dance 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Ice-T,
The Barracudas,
Yusef Lateef,
Mad Mike,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Hood,
The Vogues,
The Fuzztones,
Cymande,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pagans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
cv313,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
Hardrive,
Roger Hodgson,
Joensuu 1685,
Ponytail,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
June of 44,
The Monochrome Set,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gun Club,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Talk Talk,
Howard Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Buzzcocks,
Harry Pussy,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiopuhelimet,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delta 5,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dead C,
Crispy Ambulance,
Derrick May,
Royal Trux,
Technova,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lucky Dragons,
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.