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 Uruguay and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 The Neon Judgement to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Cameo,
John Foxx,
The Victims,
Sällskapet,
The Star Department,
Wolf Eyes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Magma,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smiths,
Minny Pops,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Five Americans,
Fugazi,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Yazoo,
DJ Sneak,
Gang of Four,
The Names,
The Techniques,
Buzzcocks,
Camberwell Now,
Brand Nubian,
The Blues Magoos,
Lebanon Hanover,
Juan Atkins,
Pussy Galore,
Rotary Connection,
Fat Boys,
Public Enemy,
Marvin Gaye,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-102,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roxy Music,
The J.B.'s,
Sister Nancy,
David McCallum,
Agent Orange,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Andrew Hill,
Toni Rubio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Bananas,
The Tremeloes,
Althea and Donna,
Bang On A Can,
Lalann,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
Nation of Ulysses,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.