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 Namibia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 DJ Sneak to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Isaac Hayes,
Guru Guru,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
Icehouse,
In Retrospect,
Minny Pops,
Skriet,
Althea and Donna,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ten City,
Janne Schatter,
Susan Cadogan,
OOIOO,
Cybotron,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Germs,
The Blues Magoos,
Deakin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mark Hollis,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unrelated Segments,
Index,
Fear,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
MDC,
Nirvana,
Smog,
The Skatalites,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Outsiders,
Sam Rivers,
Sex Pistols,
The Residents,
Visage,
Eric Dolphy,
Siglo XX,
Blancmange,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Gichy Dan,
Technova,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.