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 Lesotho and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
The Golliwogs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Almond,
Scrapy,
Pierre Henry,
Hot Snakes,
Juan Atkins,
Maleditus Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arab on Radar,
the Sonics,
The United States of America,
Pagans,
the Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
KRS-One,
Mission of Burma,
Sun City Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
The Dirtbombs,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
The Real Kids,
Yellowson,
Guru Guru,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dark Day,
the Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
Hashim,
Smog,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
Porter Ricks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier,
Loose Ends,
Lucky Dragons,
Morten Harket,
Aloha Tigers,
Cal Tjader,
Monolake,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.