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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Ossler to the grunge 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Franke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roger Hodgson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
Rekid,
Maurizio,
Wolf Eyes,
The Zeros,
Liliput,
Accadde A,
The Star Department,
Sugar Minott,
Guru Guru,
Q and Not U,
Organ,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pere Ubu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oblivians,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Moss Icon,
E-Dancer,
Cheater Slicks,
Circle Jerks,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gap Band,
MC5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mr. Review,
Rod Modell,
Joey Negro,
Dorothy Ashby,
Los Fastidios,
Bush Tetras,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
The Associates,
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Grey Daturas,
Terrestrial Tones,
New Age Steppers,
The Happenings,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Dead Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.