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 Turkey and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Liliput to the techno 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
John Lydon,
The Fall,
Wally Richardson,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cluster,
Eli Mardock,
Average White Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
Half Japanese,
Qualms,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
Mission of Burma,
Desert Stars,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Star Department,
Stiv Bators,
Cybotron,
Derrick May,
Alton Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Bang On A Can,
Motorama,
E-Dancer,
John Holt,
The Cowsills,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Slick Rick,
Flipper,
Sam Rivers,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
Television Personalities,
The United States of America,
The New Christs,
The Grass Roots,
Black Sheep,
Marshall Jefferson,
Andrew Hill,
Camouflage,
Faraquet,
Guru Guru,
These Immortal Souls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hoover,
Mo-Dettes,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.