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 Andorra and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Donny Hathaway to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
cv313,
The Standells,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eden Ahbez,
Pole,
Sarah Menescal,
the Sonics,
Aswad,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Idris Muhammad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lindisfarne,
The Evens,
Nik Kershaw,
New Age Steppers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tommy Roe,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Kerri Chandler,
The Stooges,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythm & Sound,
Visage,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fall,
The Associates,
Yellowson,
Los Fastidios,
The Slackers,
Nirvana,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Lynne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABBA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Porter Ricks,
Black Flag,
Joey Negro,
Brass Construction,
This Heat,
Marmalade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Terry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Symarip,
MC5,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeru the Damaja,
World's Most,
Oneida,
Swell Maps,
The American Breed,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.