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 Lesotho and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultimate Spinach to the grime 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
JFA,
Rod Modell,
Von Mondo,
Alison Limerick,
LL Cool J,
Al Stewart,
Man Parrish,
Nick Fraelich,
Bob Dylan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun Ra,
Howard Jones,
Anakelly,
Easy Going,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Eddi Front,
James White and The Blacks,
Wings,
Barry Ungar,
The Residents,
Lalann,
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Motorama,
Thee Headcoats,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Görl,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxy Music,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Angels of Light,
The Gap Band,
Colin Newman,
Erasure,
Lightning Bolt,
Aswad,
Ludus,
the Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Livin' Joy,
Arcadia,
Toni Rubio,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Faust,
Amazonics,
Half Japanese,
Grey Daturas,
Pantaleimon,
Brand Nubian,
In Retrospect,
Dual Sessions,
Nation of Ulysses,
a-ha,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.