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 Zimbabwe and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Peter and Kerry,
Barbara Tucker,
Electric Prunes,
The Music Machine,
Bill Near,
Lebanon Hanover,
LL Cool J,
U.S. Maple,
Harpers Bizarre,
Model 500,
Anthony Braxton,
Tres Demented,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
The Vogues,
Eurythmics,
The Kinks,
The Remains,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The J.B.'s,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hasil Adkins,
Fela Kuti,
Sarah Menescal,
Juan Atkins,
Interpol,
Aaron Thompson,
Bauhaus,
Clear Light,
The Cramps,
The Dead C,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mo-Dettes,
Slave,
Yazoo,
The Martian,
Amon Düül,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Matthew Bourne,
Iggy Pop,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Almond,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
the Bar-Kays,
Outsiders,
T. Rex,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terry Callier,
Robert Wyatt,
R.M.O.,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Finger,
World's Most,
Junior Murvin,
Yaz,
Minny Pops,
Country Teasers,
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.