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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 Motorama to the crunk 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
Moby Grape,
Make Up,
Wasted Youth,
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy Collins,
Model 500,
the Germs,
CMW,
L. Decosne,
Section 25,
Leonard Cohen,
The Seeds,
Marc Almond,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
Popol Vuh,
Monolake,
These Immortal Souls,
Oblivians,
Bush Tetras,
Ludus,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Harry Pussy,
Fear,
Youth Brigade,
Alphaville,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Average White Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fela Kuti,
Idris Muhammad,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gap Band,
Gang Starr,
Skarface,
The Mojo Men,
Cameo,
Marmalade,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
Babytalk,
Nils Olav,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
Buzzcocks,
LL Cool J,
Amon Düül II,
June of 44,
The Doors,
The Index,
Khruangbin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Prince Buster,
Ten City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.