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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 48th St. Collective to the rap 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Howard Jones,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brothers Johnson,
Franke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ten City,
Rapeman,
The Birthday Party,
Steve Hackett,
The Evens,
Anthony Braxton,
Sister Nancy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Accadde A,
Jeru the Damaja,
Flamin' Groovies,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
The Residents,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Outsiders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scratch Acid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fuzztones,
Nico,
Trumans Water,
The Buckinghams,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The American Breed,
Swans,
The New Christs,
Black Pus,
The Selecter,
Charles Mingus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Archie Shepp,
Eric Dolphy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Massinfluence,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grey Daturas,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brass Construction,
Bill Near,
the Germs,
Urselle,
The Kinks,
Ponytail,
Dual Sessions,
The Skatalites,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cheater Slicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.