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 Italy and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 One Last Wish to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anakelly,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
The Selecter,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
Susan Cadogan,
B.T. Express,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dark Day,
Charles Mingus,
Fela Kuti,
Public Enemy,
Main Source,
Al Stewart,
Joey Negro,
Soul II Soul,
The Kinks,
Interpol,
Deadbeat,
Adolescents,
The Cure,
Camberwell Now,
The Misunderstood,
Youth Brigade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Archie Shepp,
The Cramps,
The Evens,
The Gladiators,
Josef K,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rufus Thomas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dirtbombs,
Scion,
MDC,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dead C,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brand Nubian,
Junior Murvin,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Offenders,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Associates,
Girls At Our Best!,
The J.B.'s,
Dual Sessions,
Absolute Body Control,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Knickerbockers,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.