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 Egypt and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Pussy Galore,
Suburban Knight,
Lower 48,
Yazoo,
Desert Stars,
MDC,
Sparks,
Massinfluence,
Nils Olav,
Mars,
Minutemen,
Bill Wells,
Rufus Thomas,
Barbara Tucker,
Maurizio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Motorama,
UT,
It's A Beautiful Day,
This Heat,
Pere Ubu,
Hoover,
Outsiders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
The Happenings,
The Modern Lovers,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
Alice Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grauzone,
Scratch Acid,
Eve St. Jones,
Skriet,
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Foxx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rod Modell,
H. Thieme,
Gong,
Public Enemy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Neil Young,
Spoonie Gee,
Derrick Morgan,
Q65,
Laurel Aitken,
The Divine Comedy,
The Knickerbockers,
Parry Music,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.