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 Singapore and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Radio Birdman to the punk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Black Dice,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
the Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masters at Work,
Stiv Bators,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Adolescents,
Second Layer,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boredoms,
Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Shuggie Otis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eli Mardock,
OOIOO,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Sherman,
Radiohead,
The Smiths,
Half Japanese,
Q and Not U,
Eric Copeland,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Cameo,
Smog,
The Cure,
Todd Terry,
Deepchord,
Sister Nancy,
Silicon Teens,
Josef K,
The Evens,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hoover,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Womack,
One Last Wish,
The Misunderstood,
Spandau Ballet,
Laurel Aitken,
Negative Approach,
The Sound,
Ituana,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
Camouflage,
Rites of Spring,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
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.