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 Burundi and from Tehran.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
New Order,
Wire,
Robert Wyatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Görl,
Altered Images,
The Leaves,
The Human League,
The Durutti Column,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül II,
Camberwell Now,
Rotary Connection,
Soul Sonic Force,
Max Romeo,
Glenn Branca,
Rosa Yemen,
Alphaville,
Echospace,
Crispy Ambulance,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sam Rivers,
Severed Heads,
Circle Jerks,
CMW,
The Tremeloes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Excepter,
Susan Cadogan,
Anthony Braxton,
ABC,
Anakelly,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David McCallum,
Flash Fearless,
Drexciya,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
Deadbeat,
Rhythm & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Graham Central Station,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Sixth Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bauhaus,
The Gladiators,
Gong,
Talk Talk,
Carl Craig,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hasil Adkins,
Malaria!,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.