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 Yemen and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
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 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 Robert Palmer 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 cv313 to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Girls At Our Best!,
Faust,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
Suicide,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glenn Branca,
Reagan Youth,
Fugazi,
This Heat,
Black Pus,
Bobby Sherman,
Metal Thangz,
The Shadows of Knight,
Von Mondo,
Funky Four + One,
The Leaves,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Nils Olav,
Black Flag,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
The Young Rascals,
Rotary Connection,
Archie Shepp,
Model 500,
Country Joe & The Fish,
OOIOO,
Gang Starr,
the Germs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Carl Craig,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Janne Schatter,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Au Pairs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Inner City,
Guru Guru,
Bad Manners,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amazonics,
Scrapy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bluetip,
Dave Gahan,
Andrew Hill,
Henry Cow,
the Sonics,
Bronski Beat,
Cymande,
Altered Images,
Barrington Levy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dark Day,
Camberwell Now,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Skatalites,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.