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 Korea North and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Motions to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
Lightning Bolt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hashim,
Angry Samoans,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Blues Magoos,
Minutemen,
Boredoms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Royal Trux,
Au Pairs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
FM Einheit,
The Real Kids,
Procol Harum,
Roxy Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reagan Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
The Fortunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cramps,
the Normal,
Shoche,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Radiohead,
Henry Cow,
CMW,
Harry Pussy,
B.T. Express,
Eve St. Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
Byron Stingily,
Radiopuhelimet,
Das Ding,
The Barracudas,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
Chrome,
Ohio Players,
Glenn Branca,
Unrelated Segments,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
Lalann,
Neu!,
Piero Umiliani,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.