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 Venezuela and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Mr. Review to the grunge 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Matthew Bourne,
Andrew Hill,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television,
Joe Smooth,
Unwound,
Nils Olav,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control,
Mark Hollis,
L. Decosne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oneida,
June Days,
the Bar-Kays,
Letta Mbulu,
The Knickerbockers,
Graham Central Station,
Quantec,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
Cal Tjader,
Tommy Roe,
Suburban Knight,
Vainqueur,
Black Flag,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Goldenarms,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joy Division,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
The Black Dice,
Kerri Chandler,
B.T. Express,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roger Hodgson,
Lower 48,
Minnie Riperton,
Sam Rivers,
The J.B.'s,
the Swans,
Mad Mike,
The Vogues,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reagan Youth,
Circle Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.