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 Bangladesh and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the disco 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Slackers,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
The Human League,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül II,
The Moody Blues,
Steve Hackett,
FM Einheit,
Nils Olav,
Basic Channel,
Outsiders,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
The Smiths,
David Bowie,
Junior Murvin,
Sixth Finger,
June Days,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Youth Brigade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Morten Harket,
Glenn Branca,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Angels of Light,
Danielle Patucci,
Warren Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Bob Dylan,
Eric Dolphy,
Prince Buster,
The Sonics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Copeland,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fluxion,
Soul II Soul,
The Golliwogs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
Aloha Tigers,
The Red Krayola,
Joyce Sims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Terry,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Cale,
Ice-T,
Newcleus,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.