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 Moldova and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Fraelich,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Subhumans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Banda Bassotti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Popol Vuh,
Sonic Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
Sällskapet,
Leonard Cohen,
New York Dolls,
The Moleskins,
The Smoke,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Rundgren,
Excepter,
Alice Coltrane,
OOIOO,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective,
The J.B.'s,
Talk Talk,
China Crisis,
Todd Terry,
New Age Steppers,
Steve Hackett,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cameo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scrapy,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
The Cowsills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Moody Blues,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agent Orange,
The Buckinghams,
The Evens,
Metal Thangz,
Prince Buster,
U.S. Maple,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.