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 Guinea-Bissau and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang of Four to the punk 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
H. Thieme,
Traffic Nightmare,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rekid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Toni Rubio,
Crime,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Y Pants,
Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
Saccharine Trust,
Leonard Cohen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Make Up,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Raincoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
Nick Fraelich,
Lower 48,
AZ,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
Youth Brigade,
Ken Boothe,
Outsiders,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay,
Dennis Brown,
LL Cool J,
UT,
Ituana,
Piero Umiliani,
The Music Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Mo-Dettes,
Wings,
Lindisfarne,
Eric Copeland,
Inner City,
the Germs,
Siglo XX,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ornette Coleman,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Foxx,
Albert Ayler,
Easy Going,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott Heron,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.