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 Chile and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
The Cramps,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Dennis Brown,
Bad Manners,
Mars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Pylon,
Althea and Donna,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Saints,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Slits,
Roxy Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T. Rex,
Subhumans,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dark Day,
Suburban Knight,
UT,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Tom Boy,
Gichy Dan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Birthday Party,
Lower 48,
The Techniques,
the Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scott Walker,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tres Demented,
Ronan,
Judy Mowatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.