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 Egypt and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 World's Most to the grunge 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Gong,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Yellowson,
Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gastr Del Sol,
Interpol,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
Al Stewart,
Boredoms,
Stetsasonic,
Hardrive,
Letta Mbulu,
Crispian St. Peters,
China Crisis,
Rufus Thomas,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
Absolute Body Control,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deadbeat,
June of 44,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Flash Fearless,
Fatback Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Residents,
John Holt,
R.M.O.,
Maurizio,
Fela Kuti,
The Mummies,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
New York Dolls,
Lightning Bolt,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Axelrod,
Idris Muhammad,
Half Japanese,
X-101,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.