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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 The Blues Magoos to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Cosmic Jokers,
Masters at Work,
The Dave Clark Five,
a-ha,
Amon Düül II,
Panda Bear,
The Angels of Light,
Fluxion,
The Trojans,
U.S. Maple,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mo-Dettes,
Funkadelic,
Albert Ayler,
James White and The Blacks,
Agitation Free,
UT,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Intrusion,
Pet Shop Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Cale,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Maleditus Sound,
The Real Kids,
John Lydon,
Cal Tjader,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Fire Engines,
Roxette,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
Rapeman,
Circle Jerks,
David Bowie,
Terry Callier,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlback,
Underground Resistance,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
John Foxx,
MDC,
FM Einheit,
Youth Brigade,
John Holt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Skatalites,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.