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 Vanuatu and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yellowson to the funk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Matthew Bourne,
Bush Tetras,
Man Parrish,
Wings,
Goldenarms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Sneak,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Blancmange,
T.S.O.L.,
Pulsallama,
Joy Division,
Slick Rick,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joensuu 1685,
Model 500,
Suburban Knight,
Quando Quango,
Oblivians,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Desert Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kas Product,
Symarip,
Main Source,
The Gories,
The Cramps,
Loose Ends,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Japan,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faust,
U.S. Maple,
Mars,
Donny Hathaway,
Susan Cadogan,
The Divine Comedy,
Easy Going,
Brass Construction,
Sex Pistols,
Siglo XX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scion,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kool Moe Dee,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.