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 Libya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joyce Sims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Barracudas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Patti Smith,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Parry Music,
Porter Ricks,
Mars,
The Blackbyrds,
Motorama,
Terry Callier,
Rufus Thomas,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Misunderstood,
Silicon Teens,
Monks,
The Residents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
L. Decosne,
Cymande,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
EPMD,
Black Moon,
Kevin Saunderson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker,
Roger Hodgson,
Urselle,
Yazoo,
Easy Going,
The Smiths,
Derrick May,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Raincoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
KRS-One,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
In Retrospect,
ABC,
Hardrive,
Organ,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Five Americans,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.