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 Bolivia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Hashim to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Connie Case,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jawbox,
Deakin,
The Dead C,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
The Slits,
Lou Reed,
Lucky Dragons,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
The Searchers,
Lou Christie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Panda Bear,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Tom Boy,
Ten City,
The Tremeloes,
Aaron Thompson,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
Fat Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Mantronix,
Kaleidoscope,
Bad Manners,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Skatalites,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Don Cherry,
Swell Maps,
Tommy Roe,
Harmonia,
The Trojans,
Maurizio,
The American Breed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mandrill,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris & Cosey,
Suburban Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
Deadbeat,
Index,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moby Grape,
The Wake,
UT,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.