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 Singapore and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Idris Muhammad to the techno 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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Fat Boys,
Josef K,
Soulsonic Force,
The Techniques,
Alphaville,
The Walker Brothers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tommy Roe,
Mark Hollis,
the Germs,
Gang of Four,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sight & Sound,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camouflage,
Todd Rundgren,
Make Up,
June of 44,
Model 500,
Warsaw,
Masters at Work,
Easy Going,
Clear Light,
The Stooges,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Erasure,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
Altered Images,
Aloha Tigers,
A Certain Ratio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ralphi Rosario,
Simply Red,
John Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marmalade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Excepter,
Magma,
Sister Nancy,
The Gap Band,
Radiohead,
The Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scientists,
Joyce Sims,
Fela Kuti,
Fugazi,
Tim Buckley,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.