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 Kuwait and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator 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 Barry Ungar to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Newcleus,
Thompson Twins,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang of Four,
Peter & Gordon,
Vainqueur,
Glenn Branca,
The Skatalites,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Golliwogs,
Heaven 17,
Blossom Toes,
The Wake,
Lou Reed,
48th St. Collective,
Mars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Pus,
Lou Christie,
Buzzcocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eden Ahbez,
DNA,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Bananas,
Audionom,
Pylon,
Pole,
Section 25,
Josef K,
Magma,
Magazine,
Model 500,
Anakelly,
Malaria!,
Cheater Slicks,
The United States of America,
Amon Düül II,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
John Coltrane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick Morgan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Althea and Donna,
Con Funk Shun,
The Saints,
The Fall,
Aloha Tigers,
Pussy Galore,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Silicon Teens,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Black Flag,
Fear,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.