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 Rwanda and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New York Dolls to the grunge 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Agent Orange,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Leonard Cohen,
the Slits,
Tres Demented,
Slick Rick,
Malaria!,
Main Source,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lakeside,
PIL,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Subhumans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
The Toasters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
Neu!,
Das Ding,
A Certain Ratio,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Underground Resistance,
Barrington Levy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pop Group,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultra Naté,
Marmalade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Wasted Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The United States of America,
Japan,
The Music Machine,
MC5,
Radiohead,
Mandrill,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drexciya,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.