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 Suriname and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Sparks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
The Gories,
Loose Ends,
In Retrospect,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül II,
The Vogues,
Erykah Badu,
Black Pus,
Bobby Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
Television,
Basic Channel,
The Sonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Agitation Free,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arab on Radar,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
Nico,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Human League,
The Grass Roots,
Neu!,
Ituana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
Absolute Body Control,
Desert Stars,
Bob Dylan,
The Durutti Column,
Drive Like Jehu,
Howard Jones,
Matthew Halsall,
Moebius,
Pierre Henry,
Tubeway Army,
Morten Harket,
Surgeon,
The Busters,
Sarah Menescal,
the Normal,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Star Department,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blues Magoos,
Franke,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.