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 Spain and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 H. Thieme to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Junior Murvin,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
Wasted Youth,
John Foxx,
Sex Pistols,
Liliput,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed,
June Days,
kango's stein massive,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Slick Rick,
Altered Images,
the Bar-Kays,
Television,
Girls At Our Best!,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mantronix,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Holt,
Hoover,
Grey Daturas,
Lucky Dragons,
Grauzone,
Motorama,
The Neon Judgement,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gap Band,
Pantytec,
Jeff Lynne,
Mission of Burma,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aloha Tigers,
The Remains,
the Sonics,
Kerri Chandler,
EPMD,
Nirvana,
World's Most,
Rod Modell,
Swans,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Electric Prunes,
Make Up,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
Camouflage,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.