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 St Lucia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Iggy Pop to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wasted Youth,
Connie Case,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Bar-Kays,
Minutemen,
AZ,
The Cure,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Au Pairs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pantytec,
June Days,
Metal Thangz,
Schoolly D,
The Associates,
Scrapy,
Tomorrow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Human League,
Don Cherry,
The Evens,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
the Germs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Buckinghams,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
Scott Walker,
John Holt,
Severed Heads,
Erykah Badu,
CMW,
Jacques Brel,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
Cabaret Voltaire,
One Last Wish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Rufus Thomas,
UT,
Deadbeat,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Letta Mbulu,
Sun Ra,
Marmalade,
Television Personalities,
Curtis Mayfield,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reuben Wilson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.