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 Austria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 Harpers Bizarre to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sister Nancy,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
The Techniques,
Marvin Gaye,
X-Ray Spex,
Technova,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
Von Mondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Monks,
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Niagra,
Freddie Wadling,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Interpol,
Chrome,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fatback Band,
Camouflage,
Marmalade,
the Soft Cell,
The Motions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
Flash Fearless,
Johnny Clarke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pantaleimon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
Lower 48,
Public Image Ltd.,
Archie Shepp,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
Joe Finger,
Buzzcocks,
The Smiths,
The Mojo Men,
Los Fastidios,
Schoolly D,
Tommy Roe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Little Man,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magazine,
Moebius,
Subhumans,
Unrelated Segments,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.