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 Libya and from London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Vogues to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Durutti Column,
F. McDonald,
A Certain Ratio,
Pylon,
Grey Daturas,
Pantaleimon,
Bang On A Can,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Sixth Finger,
Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
This Heat,
cv313,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Barbara Tucker,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
Slick Rick,
Soul II Soul,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glenn Branca,
Thee Headcoats,
EPMD,
Bill Wells,
Judy Mowatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Technova,
Q65,
Accadde A,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Second Layer,
Danielle Patucci,
Parry Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
UT,
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
Hardrive,
Boredoms,
Camberwell Now,
Juan Atkins,
the Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
Ken Boothe,
Faraquet,
The Techniques,
The Remains,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
John Lydon,
The Trojans,
Joensuu 1685,
Bob Dylan,
Janne Schatter,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Barracudas,
Soulsonic Force,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.