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 Guinea-Bissau and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Nik Kershaw to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
Q65,
Index,
H. Thieme,
The Human League,
Accadde A,
Bootsy Collins,
Tommy Roe,
Crash Course in Science,
Oneida,
Bang On A Can,
The Happenings,
Graham Central Station,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Association,
Nas,
Jandek,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Infiniti,
Spoonie Gee,
Whodini,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Blues Magoos,
Marmalade,
Letta Mbulu,
Drexciya,
The Saints,
Groovy Waters,
Q and Not U,
The Litter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gabor Szabo,
Oblivians,
The Mummies,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Simply Red,
OOIOO,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
These Immortal Souls,
Eric Dolphy,
Echospace,
World's Most,
Motorama,
Erykah Badu,
Magma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Buckinghams,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Green,
Icehouse,
A Certain Ratio,
Pagans,
Sixth Finger,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.