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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sällskapet to the disco 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Gichy Dan,
Urselle,
Colin Newman,
Y Pants,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Saints,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Don Cherry,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxy Music,
Letta Mbulu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nils Olav,
the Slits,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Finger,
Lightning Bolt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harry Pussy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Livin' Joy,
the Germs,
John Lydon,
Au Pairs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
The Beau Brummels,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glambeats Corp.,
June Days,
the Association,
the Swans,
Section 25,
Rapeman,
T.S.O.L.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
New York Dolls,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Dolphy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
Warsaw,
Joey Negro,
Robert Hood,
Quadrant,
Darondo,
X-101,
Joyce Sims,
Ten City,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.