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 Slovakia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Johnny Clarke to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
Toni Rubio,
MC5,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh,
MDC,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Godley & Creme,
Brick,
CMW,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
Boredoms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacques Brel,
Faraquet,
Half Japanese,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick Morgan,
Mission of Burma,
The Knickerbockers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
Blake Baxter,
Grauzone,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Mojo Men,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ken Boothe,
Rekid,
Suburban Knight,
Desert Stars,
Au Pairs,
Anthony Braxton,
Animal Collective,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Carl Craig,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magazine,
Skaos,
Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unwound,
Bang On A Can,
Suicide,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.