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 Samoa and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Quando Quango to the rock 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Thompson Twins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cal Tjader,
Von Mondo,
Archie Shepp,
Drexciya,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
Minnie Riperton,
Country Teasers,
James White and The Blacks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Au Pairs,
Zero Boys,
Essential Logic,
Smog,
Das Ding,
Rhythm & Sound,
Audionom,
D'Angelo,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Eric Dolphy,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
Stiv Bators,
Electric Prunes,
Ornette Coleman,
The Remains,
the Sonics,
Gang of Four,
The Sonics,
Flipper,
Groovy Waters,
KRS-One,
Bobby Sherman,
Wings,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Second Layer,
The Moleskins,
Black Moon,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joyce Sims,
Jesper Dahlback,
Letta Mbulu,
Fear,
Rod Modell,
Dual Sessions,
Amon Düül II,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Reed,
Crooked Eye,
Lightning Bolt,
Section 25,
Ronan,
Symarip,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.