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 Colombia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Theoretical Girls,
Crooked Eye,
U.S. Maple,
Rekid,
Half Japanese,
Popol Vuh,
Jimmy McGriff,
The J.B.'s,
The Mojo Men,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reuben Wilson,
The Golliwogs,
Marine Girls,
The Count Five,
Nils Olav,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Echospace,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Faraquet,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Piero Umiliani,
New Order,
Loose Ends,
Y Pants,
Lungfish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
The Sonics,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Pus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Nirvana,
Accadde A,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sam Rivers,
Malaria!,
Alphaville,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Subhumans,
Sight & Sound,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.