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 Uruguay and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 Kayak to the electroclash 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and a chamberlin 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Liliput,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
K-Klass,
Wire,
Kayak,
The Martian,
FM Einheit,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Angels of Light,
Warren Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drive Like Jehu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Main Source,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fuzztones,
Gabor Szabo,
Interpol,
The Slits,
The Human League,
Gerry Rafferty,
Graham Central Station,
The Music Machine,
Japan,
Livin' Joy,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fugs,
Wings,
Bang On A Can,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Y Pants,
U.S. Maple,
Rufus Thomas,
Fugazi,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Toni Rubio,
Fluxion,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ralphi Rosario,
Popol Vuh,
Letta Mbulu,
June of 44,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Duran Duran,
Henry Cow,
This Heat,
Mission of Burma,
Guru Guru,
a-ha,
Joensuu 1685,
Das Ding,
The Associates,
Gang Starr,
Skriet,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.