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 Honduras and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Boz Scaggs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Soulsonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Leaves,
Audionom,
Wire,
Au Pairs,
Kas Product,
John Foxx,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
The Techniques,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock,
Basic Channel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dark Day,
Sex Pistols,
Albert Ayler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
Smog,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Sneak,
Youth Brigade,
Gabor Szabo,
The Wake,
Soft Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crooked Eye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mantronix,
Absolute Body Control,
Max Romeo,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
The Standells,
Pagans,
Monolake,
Maleditus Sound,
Liliput,
Rapeman,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker,
The Cowsills,
The Searchers,
Bill Near,
The Misunderstood,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.