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 Cuba and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Invisible to the grunge 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Bill Near,
Robert Wyatt,
Silicon Teens,
Oblivians,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
Howard Jones,
Black Bananas,
Hasil Adkins,
Neu!,
Bush Tetras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Maurizio,
Excepter,
The Last Poets,
Soul II Soul,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kool Moe Dee,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donny Hathaway,
The Toasters,
Colin Newman,
Althea and Donna,
Cheater Slicks,
Newcleus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hardrive,
Connie Case,
X-102,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The New Christs,
The Skatalites,
Dual Sessions,
James White and The Blacks,
Sam Rivers,
The Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Zero Boys,
Tom Boy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Quantec,
Con Funk Shun,
Joey Negro,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Görl,
The Misunderstood,
Derrick Morgan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter,
The Leaves,
JFA,
Bad Manners,
Letta Mbulu,
Tim Buckley,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.