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 New Zealand and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Bobby Sherman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
John Foxx,
New Order,
Bad Manners,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lucky Dragons,
Symarip,
Chrome,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
L. Decosne,
The Index,
Amon Düül,
Dawn Penn,
Liliput,
Marvin Gaye,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pagans,
E-Dancer,
Fela Kuti,
Alton Ellis,
Aaron Thompson,
New York Dolls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thompson Twins,
David Bowie,
Metal Thangz,
Soft Machine,
Slave,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tears for Fears,
Panda Bear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mummies,
Reuben Wilson,
Steve Hackett,
Wasted Youth,
Skriet,
Spandau Ballet,
Young Marble Giants,
The Zeros,
The Birthday Party,
Babytalk,
The Doors,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Marmalade,
Andrew Hill,
Wings,
Lalann,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
kango's stein massive,
John Coltrane,
Carl Craig,
Bang On A Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.