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 Liberia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sam Rivers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
The Raincoats,
New York Dolls,
Japan,
Bobby Sherman,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers,
Can,
Second Layer,
Quadrant,
The Offenders,
Marmalade,
Tubeway Army,
Icehouse,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
Nik Kershaw,
Darondo,
Mark Hollis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DNA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Babytalk,
Alphaville,
The Stooges,
the Soft Cell,
Little Man,
The Dead C,
Althea and Donna,
The Count Five,
The Dave Clark Five,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fugs,
John Coltrane,
Charles Mingus,
Barry Ungar,
Cymande,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
John Holt,
Josef K,
The Techniques,
The New Christs,
Q and Not U,
The Wake,
Alton Ellis,
Tommy Roe,
Trumans Water,
Altered Images,
Slave,
Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.