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 Brunei and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Tommy Roe,
U.S. Maple,
Popol Vuh,
Panda Bear,
The Gladiators,
Heaven 17,
cv313,
Janne Schatter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Görl,
Robert Hood,
Ituana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pylon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Japan,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
Section 25,
Flash Fearless,
The Skatalites,
The Monochrome Set,
Davy DMX,
Electric Prunes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hashim,
The Litter,
Skaos,
The Black Dice,
Suicide,
Black Flag,
Cabaret Voltaire,
LL Cool J,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Surgeon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Albert Ayler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Motions,
Patti Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Rapeman,
Organ,
Jerry's Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Shoche,
Mission of Burma,
Rekid,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.