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 Czech Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Prince Buster,
Todd Terry,
Swell Maps,
Faust,
Ultra Naté,
Reagan Youth,
Oneida,
Mo-Dettes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Standells,
Brass Construction,
Rites of Spring,
Alison Limerick,
U.S. Maple,
Swans,
Supertramp,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zapp,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dave Gahan,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moebius,
Japan,
Jacques Brel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Leonard Cohen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Babytalk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monks,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Warren Ellis,
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantytec,
The Kinks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Neon Judgement,
Ossler,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sight & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
Skarface,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.