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 Antigua and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
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 Tom Verlaine 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 Davy DMX to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman 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?
Zapp,
The Cure,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Reuben Wilson,
Skaos,
Janne Schatter,
Rosa Yemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Vainqueur,
Sällskapet,
The Doors,
Boogie Down Productions,
Massinfluence,
Skriet,
Q and Not U,
The Smoke,
Sarah Menescal,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Fear,
Toni Rubio,
The Gladiators,
Altered Images,
Theoretical Girls,
Brass Construction,
Brothers Johnson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fortunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Peter and Kerry,
Qualms,
Johnny Clarke,
Easy Going,
Danielle Patucci,
Minor Threat,
H. Thieme,
Japan,
The Young Rascals,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dual Sessions,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yusef Lateef,
Liliput,
Banda Bassotti,
Lower 48,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pylon,
Y Pants,
Mark Hollis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Royal Trux,
Fugazi,
Josef K,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.