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 Lebanon and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mission of Burma to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Rosa Yemen,
Lalann,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ituana,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
Motorama,
Tres Demented,
Byron Stingily,
AZ,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Howard Jones,
Deadbeat,
Liliput,
Gichy Dan,
Model 500,
Blancmange,
Babytalk,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Skaos,
Das Ding,
Graham Central Station,
Echospace,
Gang Starr,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Japan,
kango's stein massive,
Joey Negro,
Derrick Morgan,
Tim Buckley,
X-101,
Vainqueur,
the Slits,
Pagans,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Goldenarms,
Pere Ubu,
Black Moon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Icehouse,
Janne Schatter,
La Düsseldorf,
the Swans,
Prince Buster,
Chris Corsano,
The Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
Yazoo,
The Selecter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Anakelly,
Ornette Coleman,
The Grass Roots,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.