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 Angola and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Donald Fagen 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 Nation of Ulysses to the disco 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Black Dice,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Metal Thangz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joensuu 1685,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Junior Murvin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scott Walker,
Barclay James Harvest,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang of Four,
Unwound,
Radio Birdman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Red Krayola,
Tubeway Army,
Ten City,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Evens,
AZ,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sparks,
Nik Kershaw,
Bronski Beat,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boogie Down Productions,
K-Klass,
Q and Not U,
The Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
Glambeats Corp.,
China Crisis,
Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
Gong,
Tears for Fears,
Fela Kuti,
Byron Stingily,
Excepter,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Robert Wyatt,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.