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 Oman and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slackers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Donald Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Ronan,
Nico,
Prince Buster,
Black Pus,
Todd Rundgren,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Gong,
The American Breed,
Cluster,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
Ten City,
The Motions,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
Neil Young,
Joe Smooth,
X-Ray Spex,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Rekid,
Roger Hodgson,
Magma,
Mad Mike,
Iggy Pop,
The Fall,
Black Flag,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marvin Gaye,
Clear Light,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Byrd,
Flash Fearless,
Moss Icon,
Blancmange,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
Boz Scaggs,
Maurizio,
Janne Schatter,
Young Marble Giants,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Carl Craig,
Eric B and Rakim,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.