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 Ghana and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mr. Review,
Harmonia,
The Smoke,
Dual Sessions,
The Skatalites,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Wells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eric Copeland,
Eli Mardock,
The Divine Comedy,
OOIOO,
Boz Scaggs,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears,
Sixth Finger,
Arcadia,
Junior Murvin,
Excepter,
Brand Nubian,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Con Funk Shun,
Deepchord,
The Fire Engines,
Lightning Bolt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Camberwell Now,
Animal Collective,
The Standells,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bronski Beat,
Section 25,
Spandau Ballet,
Godley & Creme,
Moby Grape,
Boogie Down Productions,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Smiths,
Niagra,
Popol Vuh,
Motorama,
Lakeside,
Funkadelic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kenny Larkin,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.