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 Mali and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 The Residents to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Wolf Eyes,
LL Cool J,
Bluetip,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Monks,
Khruangbin,
The Real Kids,
Drexciya,
Japan,
Roy Ayers,
Smog,
Scan 7,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
Kayak,
Archie Shepp,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
H. Thieme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roxette,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Niagra,
Harmonia,
Negative Approach,
The Alarm Clocks,
June of 44,
The Mummies,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Gabor Szabo,
Spandau Ballet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minor Threat,
Ken Boothe,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Outsiders,
Pantytec,
Sister Nancy,
Motorama,
Little Man,
Ronan,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
The Saints,
the Association,
Fluxion,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.