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 Sierra Leone and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Christie to the grunge 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Jacob Miller,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nico,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Cheater Slicks,
The Golliwogs,
The Skatalites,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Wally Richardson,
Depeche Mode,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Parrish,
Suicide,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bad Manners,
Stereo Dub,
Piero Umiliani,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Royal Trux,
Sonic Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Dolphy,
EPMD,
Morten Harket,
Mandrill,
Chrome,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ossler,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Machine,
Pagans,
Lightning Bolt,
Scrapy,
Yusef Lateef,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
Pere Ubu,
The J.B.'s,
Skarface,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Metal Thangz,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dark Day,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.