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 Thailand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Janne Schatter to the jazz 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Ronnie Foster,
Stetsasonic,
Buzzcocks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dual Sessions,
The Cowsills,
Severed Heads,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oneida,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Erasure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Con Funk Shun,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
Massinfluence,
Pole,
Y Pants,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tropical Tobacco,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Godley & Creme,
Grey Daturas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Reagan Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roy Ayers,
Rekid,
The Neon Judgement,
The Birthday Party,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nirvana,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vainqueur,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
Henry Cow,
Sight & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kerrie Biddell,
Surgeon,
Faraquet,
Robert Görl,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight,
The Smoke,
Zero Boys,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.