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 Sierra Leone and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Young Marble Giants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Glambeats Corp.,
KRS-One,
Joe Finger,
Cluster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cheater Slicks,
MC5,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
Sixth Finger,
a-ha,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Bananas,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rod Modell,
R.M.O.,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wings,
Bronski Beat,
Smog,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül II,
Janne Schatter,
Clear Light,
Parry Music,
Neil Young,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sällskapet,
Desert Stars,
Scan 7,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Reuben Wilson,
Henry Cow,
Rufus Thomas,
The Modern Lovers,
The Residents,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Toni Rubio,
X-101,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cramps,
Bluetip,
Marcia Griffiths,
Excepter,
Eve St. Jones,
The Busters,
Anakelly,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Lydon,
Judy Mowatt,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ludus,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Womack,
The J.B.'s,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.