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 the UAE and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fatback Band to the dance 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The United States of America,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suicide,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wire,
Moebius,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Happenings,
Derrick May,
Morten Harket,
This Heat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronnie Foster,
Intrusion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kenny Larkin,
the Germs,
Sixth Finger,
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Womack,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mummies,
Spoonie Gee,
Franke,
KRS-One,
Nas,
The Smoke,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gichy Dan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sandy B,
Sam Rivers,
PIL,
Sister Nancy,
Deakin,
Colin Newman,
Lightning Bolt,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rod Modell,
Funky Four + One,
Freddie Wadling,
Pulsallama,
Kas Product,
Brass Construction,
R.M.O.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.