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 Burkina and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tomorrow to the grunge 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Make Up,
Jawbox,
Mad Mike,
Nirvana,
Average White Band,
Gang Green,
Los Fastidios,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
Ken Boothe,
The Kinks,
Joy Division,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boz Scaggs,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Golliwogs,
Blancmange,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Slits,
Mars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
FM Einheit,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Can,
Jacques Brel,
Suburban Knight,
Faust,
Michelle Simonal,
T.S.O.L.,
Oblivians,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Electric Prunes,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brand Nubian,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Standells,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June of 44,
Eric B and Rakim,
DNA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cramps,
X-102,
Scientists,
X-101,
The Sonics,
The Seeds,
The Vogues,
Sight & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Ten City,
Stetsasonic,
Cluster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.