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 Hungary and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Minnie Riperton,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Trojans,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Talk Talk,
Easy Going,
Graham Central Station,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ponytail,
Black Sheep,
Marine Girls,
Flipper,
The Offenders,
Organ,
FM Einheit,
Toni Rubio,
Don Cherry,
Skarface,
Derrick May,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gladiators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sparks,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funkadelic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Goldenarms,
Guru Guru,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Erasure,
R.M.O.,
The Fuzztones,
Alice Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Human League,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echospace,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smiths,
Lungfish,
Grey Daturas,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
Ronan,
Panda Bear,
The Associates,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Index,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.