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 Canada and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 Qualms to the jazz 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Blossom Toes,
Joey Negro,
Neu!,
Whodini,
DJ Style,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Duran Duran,
The New Christs,
Barbara Tucker,
Theoretical Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Leonard Cohen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delon & Dalcan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Martian,
Circle Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Silicon Teens,
Newcleus,
Soulsonic Force,
Skriet,
T. Rex,
Al Stewart,
Barry Ungar,
Tubeway Army,
Royal Trux,
Faust,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Human League,
Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
Television,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed,
Cecil Taylor,
In Retrospect,
Thee Headcoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wings,
Chrome,
Soft Cell,
Erykah Badu,
Eddi Front,
Fear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
Dual Sessions,
Quando Quango,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
Goldenarms,
Ultra Naté,
Rites of Spring,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.