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 Eritrea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Babytalk to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Gang of Four,
Con Funk Shun,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mars,
Minny Pops,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
B.T. Express,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vainqueur,
Stetsasonic,
John Cale,
Sound Behaviour,
Hasil Adkins,
Monolake,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Inner City,
Hoover,
Joensuu 1685,
Lou Christie,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nils Olav,
Blancmange,
Khruangbin,
The Fall,
Don Cherry,
Zero Boys,
Delta 5,
John Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Michelle Simonal,
Brass Construction,
Theoretical Girls,
Sugar Minott,
Darondo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Byron Stingily,
The Cowsills,
Josef K,
The Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
June Days,
Lower 48,
The Wake,
The Sonics,
E-Dancer,
Ludus,
The Gories,
June of 44,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.