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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 The Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
K-Klass,
Crooked Eye,
Pantytec,
Leonard Cohen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Reuben Wilson,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Eric Copeland,
Sandy B,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Malaria!,
Donald Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul Sonic Force,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
Moss Icon,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Standells,
The Names,
The Residents,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Eli Mardock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Divine Comedy,
The Vogues,
Mandrill,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Saints,
DJ Sneak,
Dead Boys,
R.M.O.,
Groovy Waters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Graham Central Station,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oneida,
Fad Gadget,
Icehouse,
The Litter,
Archie Shepp,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.