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 Sierra Leone and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lalo Schifrin to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Zero Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Smog,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pylon,
Deakin,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flipper,
Trumans Water,
Niagra,
Nik Kershaw,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier,
AZ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Judy Mowatt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Fortunes,
Godley & Creme,
Section 25,
The Searchers,
Arab on Radar,
Piero Umiliani,
48th St. Collective,
X-101,
Camouflage,
Supertramp,
The Leaves,
Bush Tetras,
Warren Ellis,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
Nas,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
Quantec,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cybotron,
Mark Hollis,
Wire,
The Offenders,
Ossler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Beau Brummels,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.