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 Korea South and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Michael McDonald 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 X-Ray Spex to the grunge 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Fear,
The Black Dice,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Grass Roots,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Metal Thangz,
Moss Icon,
Outsiders,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Görl,
The J.B.'s,
Rosa Yemen,
Oneida,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Don Cherry,
The Index,
Jandek,
The Dead C,
The Golliwogs,
Ice-T,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
kango's stein massive,
Livin' Joy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Amon Düül,
Simply Red,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
The Wake,
Hoover,
Dead Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Agitation Free,
a-ha,
Soulsonic Force,
Charles Mingus,
Von Mondo,
Blancmange,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Wyatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funkadelic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Morten Harket,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rufus Thomas,
Godley & Creme,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.