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 Botswana and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Black Bananas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Subhumans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MC5,
Sex Pistols,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Peter & Gordon,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
Eve St. Jones,
Ponytail,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moody Blues,
the Soft Cell,
Toni Rubio,
World's Most,
Von Mondo,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
the Swans,
Sister Nancy,
The Skatalites,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Association,
Gerry Rafferty,
Main Source,
Arthur Verocai,
PIL,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Last Poets,
Thompson Twins,
Nils Olav,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
Kool Moe Dee,
David McCallum,
These Immortal Souls,
John Foxx,
D'Angelo,
Lyres,
Eric Dolphy,
Yaz,
Danielle Patucci,
Television,
Organ,
Faraquet,
Deakin,
The Names,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.