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 Denmark and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Porter Ricks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Brand Nubian,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Motorama,
Robert Hood,
Archie Shepp,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras,
The Knickerbockers,
Brass Construction,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fela Kuti,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Bootsy Collins,
Scott Walker,
Funky Four + One,
Alton Ellis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Swell Maps,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Arthur Verocai,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
Visage,
Prince Buster,
ABBA,
Joe Finger,
The Moleskins,
Cecil Taylor,
Dead Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Eddi Front,
Icehouse,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Womack,
John Holt,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Grass Roots,
Echospace,
Guru Guru,
Organ,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun Ra,
Bluetip,
The Smoke,
Unwound,
Second Layer,
Sun City Girls,
Flash Fearless,
MDC,
John Cale,
World's Most,
Don Cherry,
Fugazi,
David Axelrod,
Hoover,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.