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 Uruguay and from Cairo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ronnie Foster to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Prince Buster,
Kas Product,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
The Selecter,
The Blackbyrds,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
The Stooges,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
Nico,
Supertramp,
Roy Ayers,
Cameo,
Jeff Mills,
Tres Demented,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Con Funk Shun,
Hardrive,
Blossom Toes,
the Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
The Red Krayola,
The Buckinghams,
Spoonie Gee,
David Axelrod,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fela Kuti,
Oblivians,
Lou Reed,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Holt,
Grey Daturas,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Germs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Toasters,
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
Sight & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
The Skatalites,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.