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 South Africa and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Wasted Youth,
Lyres,
New York Dolls,
The Golliwogs,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
Monks,
Bluetip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hardrive,
Lungfish,
Los Fastidios,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
China Crisis,
Janne Schatter,
DNA,
The Seeds,
Mo-Dettes,
Aural Exciters,
Sixth Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wally Richardson,
Minor Threat,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Stooges,
June Days,
A Certain Ratio,
Ohio Players,
Main Source,
Average White Band,
Duran Duran,
The Birthday Party,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
AZ,
Mary Jane Girls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
The Dirtbombs,
Camberwell Now,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blackbyrds,
Nas,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
Rosa Yemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Brick,
Colin Newman,
The Names,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.