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 Cyprus and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Animal Collective to the grunge 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Scrapy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nico,
The Residents,
Blake Baxter,
Rufus Thomas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Interpol,
Glenn Branca,
Roxette,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
U.S. Maple,
Tommy Roe,
Harry Pussy,
Sugar Minott,
Swell Maps,
The Black Dice,
Kurtis Blow,
Ronnie Foster,
Fugazi,
Theoretical Girls,
Nirvana,
Agitation Free,
Pussy Galore,
Davy DMX,
Y Pants,
The Moody Blues,
Ponytail,
Matthew Bourne,
Erasure,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Osbourne,
New Order,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Newcleus,
Organ,
Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Flash Fearless,
Blossom Toes,
John Holt,
Lakeside,
the Sonics,
The Blackbyrds,
The Blues Magoos,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Human League,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Vogues,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.