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 Palau and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mr. Review to the grunge 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sarah Menescal,
Charles Mingus,
the Normal,
Rapeman,
The Count Five,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cheater Slicks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Carl Craig,
Ronan,
Al Stewart,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
The Tremeloes,
Bluetip,
Wally Richardson,
Toni Rubio,
The Modern Lovers,
Icehouse,
Flamin' Groovies,
Easy Going,
Boz Scaggs,
Deakin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Avey Tare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Darondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Moon,
Basic Channel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Juan Atkins,
Pole,
The Associates,
Harry Pussy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
Henry Cow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantytec,
Hasil Adkins,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick May,
Arab on Radar,
Panda Bear,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.