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 Uganda and from Lyon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Procol Harum,
Ponytail,
The Invisible,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
Flash Fearless,
Franke,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
The Grass Roots,
Aloha Tigers,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spoonie Gee,
Rakim,
David McCallum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ossler,
Steve Hackett,
Pierre Henry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
The Searchers,
New York Dolls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Alphaville,
Leonard Cohen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Warren Ellis,
Au Pairs,
The Blues Magoos,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Glambeats Corp.,
One Last Wish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scientists,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tom Boy,
Duran Duran,
Tears for Fears,
MDC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Modern Lovers,
Altered Images,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Circle Jerks,
LL Cool J,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.