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 Zambia and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Boredoms to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Neil Young,
The Skatalites,
Arcadia,
DJ Sneak,
Goldenarms,
The Smoke,
Rapeman,
10cc,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sex Pistols,
Marine Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Deakin,
Robert Hood,
Harry Pussy,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
UT,
The J.B.'s,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Morten Harket,
Graham Central Station,
Gabor Szabo,
EPMD,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gories,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare,
Pole,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Alison Limerick,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Procol Harum,
Newcleus,
Sugar Minott,
Barbara Tucker,
Freddie Wadling,
Idris Muhammad,
The Litter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q65,
Harmonia,
The Last Poets,
Erykah Badu,
Underground Resistance,
The Fugs,
Moby Grape,
The Fire Engines,
a-ha,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
New Order,
Accadde A,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.