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 Swaziland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Throbbing Gristle to the rap 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crispy Ambulance,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Move,
Tomorrow,
Ossler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
The Dave Clark Five,
Malaria!,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Slackers,
Sixth Finger,
Wasted Youth,
the Slits,
David Bowie,
The Knickerbockers,
48th St. Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minny Pops,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Unrelated Segments,
Hoover,
The Blues Magoos,
Young Marble Giants,
Tom Boy,
The Black Dice,
Brothers Johnson,
Blossom Toes,
Pere Ubu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vladislav Delay,
Arab on Radar,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABBA,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
Section 25,
Lungfish,
Hasil Adkins,
Oblivians,
Thee Headcoats,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
Black Moon,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
World's Most,
Q and Not U,
Erykah Badu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New York Dolls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Prince Buster,
Quadrant,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.