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 Zambia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
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 linndrum 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
In Retrospect,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
Infiniti,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Bauhaus,
Livin' Joy,
K-Klass,
Lower 48,
The Angels of Light,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Inner City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Pierre Henry,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hot Snakes,
Sugar Minott,
The Smiths,
Con Funk Shun,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod,
The Pretty Things,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
Lungfish,
Swell Maps,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
The Doors,
Patti Smith,
The United States of America,
Brick,
The Barracudas,
Max Romeo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eddi Front,
Judy Mowatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Metal Thangz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mandrill,
Alice Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Slave,
The Cramps,
Moby Grape,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.