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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Barrington Levy to the electroclash 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Patti Smith,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash,
Trumans Water,
Interpol,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
T.S.O.L.,
Delta 5,
Icehouse,
Kurtis Blow,
Ponytail,
Robert Wyatt,
the Germs,
Quadrant,
Supertramp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
Outsiders,
Amazonics,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
The Gun Club,
The Fall,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dual Sessions,
Pierre Henry,
Erykah Badu,
K-Klass,
Severed Heads,
Boz Scaggs,
Tubeway Army,
Loose Ends,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
Hashim,
Lightning Bolt,
Rod Modell,
Nils Olav,
Rosa Yemen,
Organ,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms,
Maleditus Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
KRS-One,
The Beau Brummels,
Wire,
Oneida,
Scrapy,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Mantronix,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.