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 Panama and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Sandy B to the funk 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Almond,
The Residents,
David McCallum,
Quadrant,
Black Pus,
Urselle,
Amon Düül,
The Kinks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Pylon,
Accadde A,
Angry Samoans,
Procol Harum,
Bob Dylan,
Black Moon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
R.M.O.,
Trumans Water,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
The Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hardrive,
Tears for Fears,
Drive Like Jehu,
Visage,
FM Einheit,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kevin Saunderson,
Whodini,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker,
the Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Tubeway Army,
The Martian,
Jandek,
Judy Mowatt,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
Half Japanese,
David Bowie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
John Lydon,
X-101,
Underground Resistance,
The Evens,
Fear,
Soul II Soul,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.