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 St Lucia and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric Dolphy to the rap 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
F. McDonald,
Scrapy,
Sound Behaviour,
Maleditus Sound,
The Dead C,
Franke,
Bill Wells,
Agent Orange,
Don Cherry,
Junior Murvin,
Cameo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Supertramp,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The New Christs,
The Skatalites,
Eli Mardock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Remains,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Flag,
The Walker Brothers,
Lakeside,
Bang On A Can,
Pantaleimon,
Reagan Youth,
Deadbeat,
Index,
Bob Dylan,
Flipper,
Chris Corsano,
Moby Grape,
Vainqueur,
Sixth Finger,
Television,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
Delta 5,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kas Product,
This Heat,
Robert Hood,
Pere Ubu,
Harpers Bizarre,
a-ha,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gladiators,
Sonic Youth,
Zero Boys,
Dark Day,
Sarah Menescal,
Talk Talk,
Underground Resistance,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.