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 Solomon Islands and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sister Nancy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Das Ding,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultravox,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Suicide,
Blossom Toes,
The Raincoats,
Marmalade,
The Neon Judgement,
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-101,
Ronan,
Bob Dylan,
Lakeside,
Lou Christie,
Faraquet,
Eli Mardock,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
Monolake,
Hasil Adkins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Malaria!,
The Pretty Things,
Excepter,
Pere Ubu,
The Stooges,
Camberwell Now,
Maurizio,
Maleditus Sound,
Interpol,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
Sex Pistols,
This Heat,
Don Cherry,
Connie Case,
Trumans Water,
Ice-T,
T.S.O.L.,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Trojans,
MC5,
The Fall,
Liliput,
kango's stein massive,
Skarface,
Scott Walker,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.