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 Estonia and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Moleskins to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang of Four,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Swans,
The Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronnie Foster,
CMW,
Sex Pistols,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gories,
Carl Craig,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-102,
Kevin Saunderson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
Nils Olav,
Royal Trux,
Tubeway Army,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kayak,
Organ,
Motorama,
Icehouse,
Robert Wyatt,
Jawbox,
The Human League,
Eddi Front,
Gang Green,
DJ Style,
Wire,
Minnie Riperton,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Mills,
The Golliwogs,
Stereo Dub,
Panda Bear,
Marshall Jefferson,
Letta Mbulu,
Agent Orange,
Albert Ayler,
Henry Cow,
The Zeros,
Theoretical Girls,
Excepter,
Amon Düül II,
Smog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Second Layer,
Sandy B,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Barracudas,
Section 25,
Shuggie Otis,
The Kinks,
Fad Gadget,
The Cure,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.