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 Tonga and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mighty Diamonds to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Man Parrish,
The Smoke,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Magma,
James White and The Blacks,
Reagan Youth,
The Evens,
Duran Duran,
Index,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
The Fugs,
Severed Heads,
T. Rex,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
Shoche,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bluetip,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Litter,
Livin' Joy,
Toni Rubio,
John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Peter and Kerry,
A Certain Ratio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young,
The Residents,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Walker Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
Drexciya,
New York Dolls,
Barbara Tucker,
Lyres,
Todd Terry,
The Doors,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
F. McDonald,
Soulsonic Force,
The Leaves,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
KRS-One,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.