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 the UAE and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Erasure to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Masters at Work,
Peter and Kerry,
Rotary Connection,
Eric Copeland,
Slave,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
The Modern Lovers,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donald Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
Livin' Joy,
Animal Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Roxy Music,
The Velvet Underground,
Michelle Simonal,
The Slackers,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
Kurtis Blow,
Wasted Youth,
Moby Grape,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gong,
Clear Light,
Niagra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick Morgan,
Television Personalities,
The Fuzztones,
Motorama,
New Order,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
David McCallum,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Coltrane,
Index,
the Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
The American Breed,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
Juan Atkins,
Wings,
Section 25,
The Slits,
Quando Quango,
Lower 48,
Half Japanese,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.