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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Lindisfarne to the rap 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Velvet Underground,
Anakelly,
Barrington Levy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
Michelle Simonal,
Ohio Players,
The Standells,
Animal Collective,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Albert Ayler,
Sam Rivers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
Nas,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Almond,
Davy DMX,
Max Romeo,
Connie Case,
Youth Brigade,
Duran Duran,
Bang On A Can,
Crooked Eye,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dirtbombs,
Boz Scaggs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Beau Brummels,
The Trojans,
Heaven 17,
Dead Boys,
Howard Jones,
X-101,
Tomorrow,
Funkadelic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Radiohead,
Bronski Beat,
Lindisfarne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Kaleidoscope,
The Tremeloes,
Cal Tjader,
Barbara Tucker,
The Smiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lungfish,
The Vogues,
Lucky Dragons,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cure,
New York Dolls,
The Fall,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.