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 Netherlands and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 The Fall to the jazz 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
8 Eyed Spy,
Can,
Nas,
Mr. Review,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cramps,
The Fugs,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Sherman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Techniques,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare,
Flash Fearless,
The Divine Comedy,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Velvet Underground,
Charles Mingus,
CMW,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minnie Riperton,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Red Krayola,
Japan,
Schoolly D,
Inner City,
Wally Richardson,
the Bar-Kays,
cv313,
Agent Orange,
Joensuu 1685,
Dual Sessions,
Section 25,
Judy Mowatt,
The Index,
Susan Cadogan,
Little Man,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Ultimate Spinach,
D'Angelo,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
Suicide,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Eve St. Jones,
Chrome,
Ten City,
X-102,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.