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 Romania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 F. McDonald 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Agent Orange,
Pantaleimon,
Susan Cadogan,
Ice-T,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Al Stewart,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fire Engines,
The Remains,
Barbara Tucker,
Faust,
Josef K,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Coltrane,
The Victims,
Scott Walker,
Sister Nancy,
Flash Fearless,
Althea and Donna,
The Buckinghams,
World's Most,
Gang Gang Dance,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Grauzone,
Spoonie Gee,
Wolf Eyes,
Zero Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Masters at Work,
Interpol,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pop Group,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
Lyres,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
The Sound,
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric Copeland,
Black Flag,
This Heat,
Whodini,
The Sonics,
Roger Hodgson,
Bronski Beat,
Roxy Music,
Bob Dylan,
Reuben Wilson,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
The United States of America,
Rod Modell,
Q and Not U,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.