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 Zambia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
H. Thieme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yellowson,
Fluxion,
Derrick May,
Monolake,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
These Immortal Souls,
Graham Central Station,
Ash Ra Tempel,
CMW,
Robert Hood,
The Cowsills,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
The Count Five,
The Evens,
Erykah Badu,
Aloha Tigers,
Pulsallama,
Crime,
The Motions,
The Music Machine,
EPMD,
Nik Kershaw,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
The Birthday Party,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blackbyrds,
Index,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Metal Thangz,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
Nas,
Yazoo,
Massinfluence,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
John Coltrane,
Minny Pops,
Cal Tjader,
The Fugs,
Lou Christie,
Susan Cadogan,
cv313,
Gabor Szabo,
Pagans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sparks,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.