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 Chile and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Amazonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Adolescents,
Absolute Body Control,
Simply Red,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra,
Television Personalities,
Funkadelic,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Remains,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
Easy Going,
Organ,
Gichy Dan,
Sällskapet,
Max Romeo,
Can,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fugs,
John Cale,
UT,
Main Source,
D'Angelo,
Fatback Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
The Smiths,
Deakin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Last Poets,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hoover,
Fat Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Busters,
U.S. Maple,
Scion,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Charles Mingus,
Moebius,
Kerri Chandler,
Kas Product,
The Blues Magoos,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eurythmics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Echospace,
Henry Cow,
A Certain Ratio,
X-101,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.