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 Saudi Arabia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Monks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Sparks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Buckinghams,
Panda Bear,
Newcleus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Iggy Pop,
The Pretty Things,
Lakeside,
Liliput,
June Days,
Von Mondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Dave Gahan,
The Blues Magoos,
Freddie Wadling,
UT,
The Dead C,
Nico,
The Trojans,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Scrapy,
Amazonics,
Sound Behaviour,
The New Christs,
Howard Jones,
Saccharine Trust,
Intrusion,
The Blackbyrds,
Technova,
Skarface,
Cymande,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Boredoms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Infiniti,
The Doors,
Godley & Creme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ituana,
Cheater Slicks,
Loose Ends,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Divine Comedy,
China Crisis,
Blossom Toes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Lower 48,
This Heat,
The Zeros,
Metal Thangz,
The Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.