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 Equatorial Guinea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron 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 Magma to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Wake,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Ohio Players,
Derrick Morgan,
Vladislav Delay,
Arcadia,
Blossom Toes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Tres Demented,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marvin Gaye,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Skatalites,
Lindisfarne,
The Sound,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cowsills,
The United States of America,
Sexual Harrassment,
8 Eyed Spy,
Buzzcocks,
Minor Threat,
Dark Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Pus,
Make Up,
Lebanon Hanover,
Motorama,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lyres,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
The New Christs,
Slave,
Jesper Dahlback,
PIL,
The Trojans,
John Holt,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Busters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Evens,
Mantronix,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Wyatt,
The Searchers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nas,
the Association,
Sun Ra,
The Gap Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.