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 South Sudan and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ 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 Fela Kuti to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
Minnie Riperton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeff Mills,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Last Poets,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bauhaus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anakelly,
Marmalade,
Todd Rundgren,
UT,
Iggy Pop,
Can,
Ten City,
Ronan,
Groovy Waters,
Eve St. Jones,
Tubeway Army,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonic Youth,
Icehouse,
Piero Umiliani,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
Tim Buckley,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Halsall,
Albert Ayler,
The Velvet Underground,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Outsiders,
Y Pants,
Echospace,
The Seeds,
Smog,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
D'Angelo,
Neil Young,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Porter Ricks,
PIL,
Kayak,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delta 5,
Schoolly D,
DNA,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.