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 Albania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Donald Fagen 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 The United States of America to the grunge 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
The Busters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat,
Junior Murvin,
Nico,
Lungfish,
The Residents,
Cameo,
Marine Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Max Romeo,
Scrapy,
Kerri Chandler,
Index,
Piero Umiliani,
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
The Buckinghams,
Mandrill,
Sun City Girls,
Ultravox,
Saccharine Trust,
Smog,
Yaz,
The Toasters,
Joey Negro,
The J.B.'s,
Funkadelic,
Jacob Miller,
The Martian,
Sun Ra,
David Bowie,
Mantronix,
H. Thieme,
Warren Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Faraquet,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Blues Magoos,
John Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispian St. Peters,
AZ,
The Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
B.T. Express,
cv313,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dirtbombs,
The Knickerbockers,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Soulsonic Force,
Joyce Sims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.