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 Somalia and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiohead,
Monolake,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
cv313,
Little Man,
Spoonie Gee,
X-102,
Oblivians,
Peter and Kerry,
Neu!,
Jacques Brel,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
Danielle Patucci,
Severed Heads,
Negative Approach,
Fat Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sister Nancy,
Cymande,
Ohio Players,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Human League,
Wings,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sound Behaviour,
The Knickerbockers,
Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
Skriet,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronan,
Derrick May,
Outsiders,
ABC,
Aloha Tigers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pussy Galore,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
The Wake,
Iggy Pop,
Bobbi Humphrey,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.