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 Albania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 The Fuzztones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Bang On A Can,
The Slackers,
Bobby Womack,
The Wake,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes,
Das Ding,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Masters at Work,
The Durutti Column,
Con Funk Shun,
Porter Ricks,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rakim,
Swans,
Echospace,
The Sonics,
Ronan,
Radio Birdman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vladislav Delay,
Section 25,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul II Soul,
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Bizarre Inc.,
James White and The Blacks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Toasters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
Brass Construction,
Danielle Patucci,
Susan Cadogan,
Joey Negro,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Birthday Party,
The Martian,
Letta Mbulu,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
PIL,
Deakin,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.