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 Kyrgyzstan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Guru Guru to the grime 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Trumans Water,
David Bowie,
Suburban Knight,
Sonic Youth,
Loose Ends,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
World's Most,
Derrick May,
Fat Boys,
Bill Wells,
Nirvana,
Jandek,
Technova,
Average White Band,
Black Flag,
Quando Quango,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Suicide,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mummies,
Slave,
Angry Samoans,
Al Stewart,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joey Negro,
Soul Sonic Force,
Junior Murvin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Green,
Wally Richardson,
L. Decosne,
Shuggie Otis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delon & Dalcan,
Freddie Wadling,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lower 48,
Das Ding,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scion,
Donny Hathaway,
Metal Thangz,
Crime,
The Gladiators,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fuzztones,
Gong,
The Leaves,
Grey Daturas,
Nick Fraelich,
The Stooges,
The Divine Comedy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.