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 Indonesia and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Altered Images,
David Bowie,
Henry Cow,
Dead Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
The Buckinghams,
Pussy Galore,
Cal Tjader,
The Flesh Eaters,
Janne Schatter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Hood,
Quadrant,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Suicide,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Byrd,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moleskins,
Skriet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Connie Case,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Wyatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boredoms,
Adolescents,
The Move,
Grey Daturas,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Khruangbin,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
The Star Department,
Gong,
The Associates,
Angry Samoans,
Bronski Beat,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Smog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nik Kershaw,
New York Dolls,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Nils Olav,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
The Martian,
The Techniques,
Don Cherry,
Pulsallama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fatback Band,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.