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 Honduras and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Radio Birdman to the jazz 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Terrestrial Tones,
Ludus,
Nils Olav,
The Beau Brummels,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fear,
Mad Mike,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dirtbombs,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Sex Pistols,
Tim Buckley,
Kayak,
The Vogues,
Rakim,
Radiohead,
The Slits,
H. Thieme,
The Offenders,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faraquet,
The Move,
The Barracudas,
Siglo XX,
the Bar-Kays,
The Knickerbockers,
The Index,
D'Angelo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Danielle Patucci,
Little Man,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sarah Menescal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soul II Soul,
The Walker Brothers,
Alphaville,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shoche,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faust,
Cal Tjader,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Section 25,
Bang On A Can,
Ornette Coleman,
Wasted Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Chrome,
Kas Product,
Arcadia,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Derrick May,
Max Romeo,
The Sound,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.