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 Norway and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Golliwogs to the crunk 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed,
UT,
Drexciya,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Desert Stars,
Eurythmics,
Aloha Tigers,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
Oblivians,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Panda Bear,
The Slackers,
Blancmange,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
The Happenings,
Josef K,
These Immortal Souls,
Suicide,
David Axelrod,
Radiohead,
One Last Wish,
Basic Channel,
Babytalk,
The Busters,
R.M.O.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lakeside,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Bowie,
Grandmaster Flash,
Quadrant,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
T. Rex,
Byron Stingily,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Moon,
The Doors,
Donny Hathaway,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
D'Angelo,
The Divine Comedy,
Colin Newman,
Cecil Taylor,
Kaleidoscope,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Yellowson,
Index,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.