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 Liechtenstein and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fugs,
Inner City,
The Dead C,
Black Pus,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott Heron,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boz Scaggs,
Eddi Front,
Sandy B,
Shuggie Otis,
David McCallum,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fluxion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
Fad Gadget,
D'Angelo,
Funkadelic,
The Doors,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Associates,
Jacques Brel,
Morten Harket,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
The Busters,
Roxette,
Bad Manners,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Groovy Waters,
Young Marble Giants,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Sneak,
the Slits,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Television,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Dark Day,
Livin' Joy,
Slave,
T.S.O.L.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zero Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joy Division,
The New Christs,
R.M.O.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.