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 Zimbabwe and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Banda Bassotti to the techno 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Byron Stingily,
Magma,
Model 500,
Depeche Mode,
Malaria!,
The Zeros,
The Saints,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed,
Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Los Fastidios,
Soul Sonic Force,
Can,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terry Callier,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Anakelly,
Negative Approach,
R.M.O.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arcadia,
Pierre Henry,
Qualms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sight & Sound,
JFA,
Hardrive,
Newcleus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Green,
48th St. Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Heaven 17,
Stiv Bators,
MDC,
Rosa Yemen,
Yazoo,
Pantytec,
The Moleskins,
Jacques Brel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Brand Nubian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moby Grape,
The Knickerbockers,
the Bar-Kays,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.