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 United Kingdom and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Camberwell Now to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
Grey Daturas,
Clear Light,
David Bowie,
Morten Harket,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Style,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Green,
Connie Case,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gabor Szabo,
The Toasters,
Yellowson,
Hasil Adkins,
Jandek,
Sugar Minott,
Pole,
Visage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
The Alarm Clocks,
U.S. Maple,
Bauhaus,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Newcleus,
48th St. Collective,
Trumans Water,
Lalann,
Chris & Cosey,
Alison Limerick,
Carl Craig,
The Count Five,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gun Club,
Index,
Avey Tare,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
The New Christs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Erykah Badu,
John Holt,
Arthur Verocai,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lungfish,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.