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 Gambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Donald Fagen 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 Oneida to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Blake Baxter,
Zapp,
Joe Smooth,
Kerri Chandler,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
Skarface,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force,
Malaria!,
Robert Wyatt,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül II,
Harmonia,
Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radiohead,
Lou Reed,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
CMW,
Lalo Schifrin,
The New Christs,
Marvin Gaye,
EPMD,
X-101,
Rod Modell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
Mo-Dettes,
Neu!,
Skriet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liliput,
Outsiders,
KRS-One,
Mission of Burma,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Whodini,
Oblivians,
Joensuu 1685,
Chris Corsano,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amazonics,
Pulsallama,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
The Durutti Column,
Crash Course in Science,
Charles Mingus,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.