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 East Timor and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Flamin' Groovies to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
John Cale,
U.S. Maple,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric B and Rakim,
DNA,
Moebius,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Terry Callier,
The Skatalites,
Freddie Wadling,
Buzzcocks,
Lungfish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Zero Boys,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
World's Most,
Ultra Naté,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Associates,
Anakelly,
Minutemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Remains,
Ronan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
John Lydon,
Gabor Szabo,
Brass Construction,
Suicide,
Khruangbin,
Mandrill,
Byron Stingily,
Harry Pussy,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
Lebanon Hanover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
The Gap Band,
Basic Channel,
Das Ding,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wings,
The Saints,
Barclay James Harvest,
kango's stein massive,
The Gories,
The Cowsills,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Morten Harket,
Bill Near,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.