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 Maldives and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
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 snare 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 Danielle Patucci to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Deadbeat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
June of 44,
Dead Boys,
UT,
Gang Gang Dance,
Franke,
Sun City Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Saints,
Flamin' Groovies,
Absolute Body Control,
World's Most,
The Kinks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Detroit Cobras,
Henry Cow,
Au Pairs,
Althea and Donna,
E-Dancer,
the Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Outsiders,
Faust,
Janne Schatter,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express,
Motorama,
Magazine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
The Victims,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Severed Heads,
CMW,
Sun Ra,
Steve Hackett,
The Durutti Column,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pet Shop Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Isaac Hayes,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Human League,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.