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 Malawi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Smoke to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Mark Hollis,
The Smiths,
Malaria!,
The Five Americans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funkadelic,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlback,
Archie Shepp,
Arab on Radar,
Neil Young,
Stetsasonic,
Erykah Badu,
Warsaw,
Yaz,
The Cowsills,
Todd Terry,
The Young Rascals,
Groovy Waters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Visage,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Starr,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Toasters,
Howard Jones,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultravox,
T.S.O.L.,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Gang Dance,
Porter Ricks,
Vainqueur,
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Amon Düül,
Boz Scaggs,
Bill Near,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Au Pairs,
Magazine,
Scratch Acid,
Nils Olav,
Neu!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Machine,
Scion,
Arthur Verocai,
Grey Daturas,
Oneida,
Reagan Youth,
Television Personalities,
Yusef Lateef,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.