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 Macedonia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Doors to the grime 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
World's Most,
The Slits,
the Sonics,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronnie Foster,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Kas Product,
The Kinks,
Yazoo,
UT,
Colin Newman,
Khruangbin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Suicide,
The Index,
Subhumans,
Brass Construction,
Jacob Miller,
the Bar-Kays,
Scrapy,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
Silicon Teens,
Banda Bassotti,
Andrew Hill,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roxy Music,
The Dirtbombs,
the Human League,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gladiators,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
Rekid,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Copeland,
MDC,
The Martian,
The Stooges,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pylon,
Marvin Gaye,
Lungfish,
Sixth Finger,
Hot Snakes,
Cymande,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.