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 Jordan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 The Red Krayola to the grime 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Los Fastidios,
48th St. Collective,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gichy Dan,
Henry Cow,
The Offenders,
Skaos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deadbeat,
The Saints,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry's Kids,
Goldenarms,
Crash Course in Science,
Davy DMX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Main Source,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pere Ubu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bad Manners,
Funky Four + One,
Nick Fraelich,
Tim Buckley,
the Bar-Kays,
Sex Pistols,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Sam Rivers,
New York Dolls,
Japan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ornette Coleman,
Fear,
Al Stewart,
The Zeros,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Susan Cadogan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Motorama,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Echospace,
Gang Starr,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pole,
Q and Not U,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.