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 Uganda and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Severed Heads to the techno 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Little Man,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
The Smoke,
The Index,
New Age Steppers,
ABBA,
Mr. Review,
John Foxx,
The Knickerbockers,
The Motions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skarface,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terrestrial Tones,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
Visage,
Eve St. Jones,
Scratch Acid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Groovy Waters,
Kas Product,
Tom Boy,
Can,
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sparks,
Fad Gadget,
Marvin Gaye,
Junior Murvin,
Dawn Penn,
the Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zapp,
Altered Images,
Liliput,
Ken Boothe,
Marine Girls,
The Moleskins,
The Dead C,
The Cramps,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mantronix,
Ultra Naté,
Scrapy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick May,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Blackbyrds,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.