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 Italy and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rap 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aural Exciters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Laurel Aitken,
Neu!,
Magma,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Hood,
Grauzone,
kango's stein massive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Erykah Badu,
The Pretty Things,
Can,
Albert Ayler,
Ice-T,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
Mandrill,
John Cale,
Duran Duran,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tears for Fears,
The Sisters of Mercy,
cv313,
Bobby Womack,
The Cure,
a-ha,
the Fania All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angry Samoans,
Babytalk,
Theoretical Girls,
Pylon,
Qualms,
The Smoke,
Cluster,
Iggy Pop,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tres Demented,
Leonard Cohen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yusef Lateef,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Morten Harket,
Liliput,
Sandy B,
Derrick Morgan,
Popol Vuh,
Technova,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Doors,
Michelle Simonal,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.