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 Dominica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spandau Ballet to the jazz 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Basic Channel,
Swell Maps,
D'Angelo,
Slick Rick,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Clear Light,
Eric Dolphy,
Shoche,
Smog,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Panda Bear,
Absolute Body Control,
The Blackbyrds,
Jandek,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Barclay James Harvest,
Graham Central Station,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joe Smooth,
The Moleskins,
Dave Gahan,
Pagans,
Henry Cow,
Spandau Ballet,
The Move,
Derrick May,
Roger Hodgson,
This Heat,
The Walker Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Godley & Creme,
Nico,
Main Source,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Donny Hathaway,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The American Breed,
Ice-T,
the Association,
Sarah Menescal,
Mr. Review,
the Swans,
Aaron Thompson,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
The Durutti Column,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultravox,
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.