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 Bhutan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Index,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Green,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
The Wake,
Faust,
Josef K,
The Barracudas,
Pylon,
Charles Mingus,
Carl Craig,
Tears for Fears,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ohio Players,
Eve St. Jones,
Guru Guru,
Ken Boothe,
Unwound,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Erasure,
Make Up,
The Stooges,
Marine Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Monolake,
Sun Ra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alphaville,
Lou Christie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Near,
Crooked Eye,
Joensuu 1685,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Derrick May,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Bad Manners,
The Real Kids,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Mills,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Groovy Waters,
Cecil Taylor,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
Boogie Down Productions,
Can,
Nico,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.