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 Hungary and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Lungfish to the punk 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Morten Harket,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pharoah Sanders,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Second Layer,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marmalade,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantaleimon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fuzztones,
Ice-T,
The Associates,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Starr,
Intrusion,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Wyatt,
Lightning Bolt,
Y Pants,
The Trojans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Durutti Column,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hasil Adkins,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Lower 48,
Quando Quango,
The Fall,
Lungfish,
Blancmange,
The Buckinghams,
Quadrant,
Cheater Slicks,
Jawbox,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dave Gahan,
Nico,
The New Christs,
The Dead C,
Blossom Toes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yellowson,
Prince Buster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.