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 Marshall Islands and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Magma to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Intrusion,
Brand Nubian,
Brass Construction,
Newcleus,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mighty Diamonds,
D'Angelo,
Sugar Minott,
Smog,
Fluxion,
Nico,
Average White Band,
Arab on Radar,
Minor Threat,
ABBA,
The Black Dice,
Theoretical Girls,
David Bowie,
Robert Hood,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
The Music Machine,
The Kinks,
Lou Christie,
The Wake,
Nils Olav,
Freddie Wadling,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ohio Players,
The Victims,
Pulsallama,
Deepchord,
Black Sheep,
Los Fastidios,
Barry Ungar,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Ludus,
Aural Exciters,
The Pretty Things,
Skaos,
Nas,
Monks,
DNA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.