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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
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 marimba 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 Ken Boothe to the rock 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Flipper,
The Fuzztones,
Barbara Tucker,
Tim Buckley,
Warsaw,
Barrington Levy,
Interpol,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Martian,
Quadrant,
John Coltrane,
Cal Tjader,
Chris & Cosey,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultra Naté,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Association,
Toni Rubio,
The Toasters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kas Product,
Donny Hathaway,
Althea and Donna,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Technova,
10cc,
Lakeside,
KRS-One,
Essential Logic,
Connie Case,
Josef K,
Little Man,
Black Bananas,
Second Layer,
The Music Machine,
Average White Band,
the Normal,
Delta 5,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smiths,
Sonic Youth,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Hot Snakes,
Dave Gahan,
H. Thieme,
Au Pairs,
Thee Headcoats,
Nirvana,
Newcleus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Soft Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Zeros,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.