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 Guinea-Bissau and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 oboe 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 Crispy Ambulance to the disco 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Jacques Brel,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Golliwogs,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Make Up,
Camouflage,
Tres Demented,
Ultra Naté,
Icehouse,
The Seeds,
One Last Wish,
Heaven 17,
Mars,
Depeche Mode,
Delta 5,
Au Pairs,
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rod Modell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
The Walker Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Slave,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick Morgan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Symarip,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
Mary Jane Girls,
10cc,
Susan Cadogan,
the Sonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yaz,
Siglo XX,
Todd Terry,
Index,
Warren Ellis,
Skriet,
Chrome,
Roxy Music,
Youth Brigade,
Amazonics,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.