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 Nicaragua and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 Girls At Our Best! to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Neon Judgement,
Livin' Joy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Clear Light,
Eve St. Jones,
Vainqueur,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Infiniti,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
Barry Ungar,
Sister Nancy,
Blake Baxter,
Sandy B,
The Count Five,
New York Dolls,
Pantaleimon,
Charles Mingus,
Freddie Wadling,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed,
The Star Department,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Second Layer,
Quantec,
Soft Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Ludus,
the Swans,
Ohio Players,
Laurel Aitken,
The Motions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dawn Penn,
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes,
The Real Kids,
Loose Ends,
Yaz,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Mantronix,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eddi Front,
Urselle,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.