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 Tuvalu and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Fugs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Funkadelic,
Theoretical Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra,
The Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Byrd,
Fear,
Mandrill,
the Germs,
Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monolake,
Idris Muhammad,
Dennis Brown,
The Motions,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Carl Craig,
Flipper,
8 Eyed Spy,
Silicon Teens,
The Trojans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Human League,
The Gladiators,
Swell Maps,
Letta Mbulu,
Cluster,
Model 500,
Matthew Halsall,
OOIOO,
Morten Harket,
The Residents,
The Pop Group,
MDC,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Knickerbockers,
Archie Shepp,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bootsy Collins,
Skriet,
Icehouse,
Dawn Penn,
The Offenders,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.