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 Zambia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Young Marble Giants to the dance 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
The Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David McCallum,
B.T. Express,
ABBA,
Scratch Acid,
Sun Ra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Seeds,
Joe Smooth,
Wasted Youth,
Hashim,
Q65,
Bob Dylan,
The Shadows of Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
John Holt,
Blossom Toes,
The Golliwogs,
Suburban Knight,
Fluxion,
The Evens,
Boredoms,
Minnie Riperton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Adolescents,
Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
X-102,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Machine,
Bang On A Can,
The Buckinghams,
Mark Hollis,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
Fugazi,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Roxette,
Hot Snakes,
Dave Gahan,
Stereo Dub,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
Neu!,
Aswad,
Black Moon,
Freddie Wadling,
Brand Nubian,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skriet,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
The Blues Magoos,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.