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 Kosovo and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alice Coltrane to the electroclash 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Last Poets,
The Associates,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
OOIOO,
Quadrant,
Suburban Knight,
Siglo XX,
UT,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Audionom,
Soft Cell,
Malaria!,
Main Source,
In Retrospect,
Roxy Music,
Lakeside,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anakelly,
Guru Guru,
the Association,
Skriet,
The Wake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Tres Demented,
Sonny Sharrock,
Faust,
the Bar-Kays,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Modern Lovers,
Yaz,
Delta 5,
The Trojans,
The Blackbyrds,
the Slits,
Dark Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Derrick May,
The Fugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Suicide,
Colin Newman,
Con Funk Shun,
Pussy Galore,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacques Brel,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sixth Finger,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.