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 Montenegro and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Desert Stars to the disco 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
The Sonics,
Black Pus,
Amazonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Görl,
The Angels of Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
The Cure,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fire Engines,
Wings,
Tim Buckley,
Man Eating Sloth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fluxion,
James White and The Blacks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T. Rex,
Lalo Schifrin,
Isaac Hayes,
Faust,
Glenn Branca,
Cymande,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios,
The Young Rascals,
Amon Düül,
Henry Cow,
Niagra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Liliput,
Can,
Jeff Mills,
Skarface,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacques Brel,
Cluster,
Loose Ends,
Ken Boothe,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Warsaw,
Unrelated Segments,
MDC,
Rufus Thomas,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.