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 Ghana and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Fire Engines to the jazz 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
H. Thieme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs,
Iggy Pop,
the Soft Cell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Charles Mingus,
The Black Dice,
Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
DNA,
Pagans,
The Velvet Underground,
Underground Resistance,
Lungfish,
Bauhaus,
Simply Red,
The Slackers,
Tears for Fears,
Anakelly,
Accadde A,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barbara Tucker,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Moby Grape,
The Gories,
Althea and Donna,
Pantytec,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alison Limerick,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Camberwell Now,
Scratch Acid,
Slick Rick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Moon,
Swell Maps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blake Baxter,
Barry Ungar,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Standells,
The Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
The Leaves,
Organ,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
Livin' Joy,
The Invisible,
Peter & Gordon,
Brothers Johnson,
Rapeman,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.