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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Moby Grape to the grime 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cramps,
Heaven 17,
The Seeds,
Bill Near,
Panda Bear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare,
Audionom,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soft Machine,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
Connie Case,
The Move,
Television,
Jeff Lynne,
Crooked Eye,
The Count Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dawn Penn,
Sam Rivers,
Stetsasonic,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kas Product,
Barbara Tucker,
In Retrospect,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hoover,
Bluetip,
Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
Tomorrow,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maleditus Sound,
Ken Boothe,
AZ,
D'Angelo,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Monks,
Franke,
Babytalk,
Cheater Slicks,
Maurizio,
The Velvet Underground,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.