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 Ukraine and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
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 synthesizer 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 The Residents to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Infiniti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Subhumans,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
Peter and Kerry,
Gichy Dan,
The Busters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Faraquet,
Fad Gadget,
Erasure,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slackers,
Duran Duran,
The Misunderstood,
X-Ray Spex,
Moss Icon,
Bang On A Can,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronan,
Goldenarms,
Gang of Four,
Althea and Donna,
New York Dolls,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Starr,
Morten Harket,
The Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
B.T. Express,
Pantytec,
D'Angelo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxy Music,
Organ,
Alison Limerick,
The Divine Comedy,
The New Christs,
Bush Tetras,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
the Normal,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Rundgren,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
the Association,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
The Red Krayola,
Massinfluence,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.