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 Salvador.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Anthony Braxton,
The Dead C,
The Birthday Party,
Fluxion,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cramps,
The Gun Club,
Intrusion,
One Last Wish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smiths,
DNA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pulsallama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sällskapet,
The Neon Judgement,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily,
Cecil Taylor,
Grauzone,
Robert Hood,
Roger Hodgson,
Ohio Players,
Warsaw,
Sam Rivers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Moon,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
The Names,
Moebius,
Dorothy Ashby,
Swans,
Mandrill,
The Smoke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Fraelich,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Normal,
Organ,
B.T. Express,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Star Department,
Gang of Four,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
F. McDonald,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.