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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Patti Smith to the punk 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Technova,
Sparks,
Lindisfarne,
These Immortal Souls,
Ludus,
The Red Krayola,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mo-Dettes,
Chris & Cosey,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Stooges,
Boz Scaggs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang of Four,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mantronix,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
Young Marble Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drexciya,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Darondo,
Crash Course in Science,
Mr. Review,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tears for Fears,
Erasure,
Skaos,
OOIOO,
Neil Young,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Franke,
Sex Pistols,
The Residents,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Banda Bassotti,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
Sun Ra,
Harmonia,
Howard Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dark Day,
Glenn Branca,
Tim Buckley,
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.