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 Congo and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Donald Byrd to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Agent Orange,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
Marc Almond,
Kaleidoscope,
Quadrant,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
Nico,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Quando Quango,
Liliput,
Connie Case,
Jeff Lynne,
The Red Krayola,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Scan 7,
Boz Scaggs,
Steve Hackett,
Country Teasers,
Goldenarms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Von Mondo,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantytec,
These Immortal Souls,
The United States of America,
Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Remains,
Faust,
Janne Schatter,
Yellowson,
Oblivians,
JFA,
Trumans Water,
Fat Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Holt,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
The Smiths,
48th St. Collective,
Slave,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marmalade,
Bluetip,
Guru Guru,
John Lydon,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.