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 Ireland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Radio Birdman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Television Personalities,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brass Construction,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suicide,
Sandy B,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magma,
World's Most,
Donny Hathaway,
The Skatalites,
John Lydon,
Visage,
Boredoms,
Joy Division,
The Wake,
Eric Copeland,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
One Last Wish,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
Moss Icon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Inner City,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Black Dice,
Bill Wells,
The Young Rascals,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
PIL,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
Khruangbin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arcadia,
Fluxion,
Infiniti,
Peter and Kerry,
Surgeon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Reuben Wilson,
Sight & Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Nick Fraelich,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Clarke,
The Litter,
Das Ding,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.