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 Micronesia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Kerri Chandler to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Marine Girls,
Pantytec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moss Icon,
Agitation Free,
The Young Rascals,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
Youth Brigade,
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DJ Style,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suicide,
E-Dancer,
Shoche,
Peter and Kerry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sister Nancy,
Slick Rick,
Kayak,
The Shadows of Knight,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eddi Front,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
Camberwell Now,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
Silicon Teens,
The Move,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Morten Harket,
Motorama,
The Mojo Men,
Tom Boy,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.