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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Depeche Mode to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Little Man,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra,
New Order,
Quantec,
Gang Green,
The Mummies,
Mr. Review,
Roger Hodgson,
Wally Richardson,
Qualms,
Suicide,
Josef K,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
Sparks,
Lucky Dragons,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun City Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Pole,
Mark Hollis,
Fear,
The Angels of Light,
The American Breed,
Blossom Toes,
Scott Walker,
Barrington Levy,
Kaleidoscope,
AZ,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Alison Limerick,
Cheater Slicks,
Camberwell Now,
Tubeway Army,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amon Düül,
Suburban Knight,
Mars,
Magma,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Darondo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Hood,
Ossler,
The Cramps,
Essential Logic,
Metal Thangz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jimmy McGriff,
Television,
Sarah Menescal,
10cc,
Reagan Youth,
KRS-One,
The Modern Lovers,
The United States of America,
Delta 5,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.