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 Tuvalu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Bill Wells to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Q and Not U,
the Sonics,
June of 44,
Todd Rundgren,
Silicon Teens,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
the Soft Cell,
X-101,
Throbbing Gristle,
Negative Approach,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Simply Red,
L. Decosne,
Alice Coltrane,
Danielle Patucci,
Nik Kershaw,
Section 25,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Misunderstood,
Lyres,
The Victims,
Rod Modell,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Sherman,
The Angels of Light,
Das Ding,
Underground Resistance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mad Mike,
Soft Cell,
Peter & Gordon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
Clear Light,
Niagra,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
T.S.O.L.,
Cymande,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
Monks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brass Construction,
The Barracudas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
the Human League,
The Cramps,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Circle Jerks,
the Slits,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.