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 Equatorial Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Gastr Del Sol to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Skarface,
Harpers Bizarre,
Reuben Wilson,
Royal Trux,
Albert Ayler,
Harry Pussy,
Section 25,
Kenny Larkin,
X-101,
Faust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Morten Harket,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kaleidoscope,
Marmalade,
PIL,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Crime,
Pulsallama,
Depeche Mode,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thee Headcoats,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Last Poets,
Trumans Water,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
The Pretty Things,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warren Ellis,
The Wake,
The Mojo Men,
Rotary Connection,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül,
Arcadia,
Grauzone,
Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
Ralphi Rosario,
Q65,
Godley & Creme,
The Slackers,
Das Ding,
The Move,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wasted Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Starr,
Boredoms,
Graham Central Station,
Wire,
Gang of Four,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.