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 Saudi Arabia and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lebanon Hanover to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
Sandy B,
Symarip,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Red Krayola,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Interpol,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skarface,
CMW,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dennis Brown,
Barbara Tucker,
Gichy Dan,
The Skatalites,
MDC,
10cc,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Public Enemy,
Alice Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Peter and Kerry,
The Martian,
Maurizio,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kas Product,
the Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
The Black Dice,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Evens,
Josef K,
Erykah Badu,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sister Nancy,
ABC,
The Zeros,
Metal Thangz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys,
Section 25,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
The Selecter,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.