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 Bahrain and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the electroclash 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
AZ,
Fad Gadget,
The Grass Roots,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jacob Miller,
Model 500,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
Bill Wells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
The Angels of Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
New Order,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deadbeat,
Ten City,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Duran Duran,
June of 44,
Saccharine Trust,
Clear Light,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
The Black Dice,
Von Mondo,
Prince Buster,
Quando Quango,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Bowie,
Oblivians,
Mantronix,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aswad,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Faraquet,
Cameo,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hasil Adkins,
Wings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dead C,
The Cowsills,
UT,
Bang On A Can,
Oneida,
MC5,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.