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 Armenia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Drive Like Jehu to the jazz 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
X-Ray Spex,
John Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Selecter,
The Kinks,
Camouflage,
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Bauhaus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
Y Pants,
The Happenings,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
Agent Orange,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Depeche Mode,
The Raincoats,
Scrapy,
Newcleus,
Anakelly,
Fugazi,
Archie Shepp,
Brick,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pylon,
Q65,
Clear Light,
Mandrill,
Rites of Spring,
Swell Maps,
Ponytail,
The Last Poets,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Danielle Patucci,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wings,
Fear,
X-102,
Television,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Metal Thangz,
Crash Course in Science,
These Immortal Souls,
Godley & Creme,
The Pretty Things,
Carl Craig,
Sight & Sound,
Moss Icon,
Spoonie Gee,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.