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 Zimbabwe and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rap 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
Funkadelic,
Franke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scrapy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Judy Mowatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Au Pairs,
Mark Hollis,
Television,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Supertramp,
Wasted Youth,
Joe Finger,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Can,
Nils Olav,
Icehouse,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Hill,
Basic Channel,
Delta 5,
Stiv Bators,
The Blues Magoos,
Nirvana,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
Mad Mike,
Vainqueur,
the Soft Cell,
Magma,
Loose Ends,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
Simply Red,
Cymande,
Qualms,
The Real Kids,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead,
Zero Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ludus,
Joensuu 1685,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.