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 Nauru and from Lyon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron 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 The Birthday Party to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Wally Richardson,
The Selecter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare,
Robert Wyatt,
Blake Baxter,
Wings,
The Modern Lovers,
Peter & Gordon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Little Man,
Bobby Womack,
Reagan Youth,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Green,
Excepter,
The Smiths,
Ronan,
Dennis Brown,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacques Brel,
Zero Boys,
The Sound,
Can,
Make Up,
La Düsseldorf,
Kayak,
Main Source,
the Association,
Pulsallama,
The Vogues,
Au Pairs,
The Victims,
The Fortunes,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Junior Murvin,
Ten City,
Thompson Twins,
Television Personalities,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Raincoats,
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Ohio Players,
The Busters,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Move,
Tommy Roe,
MDC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.