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 Tunisia and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Junior Murvin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Symarip,
Al Stewart,
Warren Ellis,
Basic Channel,
The Fugs,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Loose Ends,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Pole,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monochrome Set,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
Spandau Ballet,
Prince Buster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
Bob Dylan,
The Smiths,
The Sonics,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
The Associates,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mandrill,
Country Teasers,
Groovy Waters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Starr,
Sam Rivers,
Brick,
Rufus Thomas,
Panda Bear,
Magma,
Sound Behaviour,
Unwound,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mark Hollis,
The J.B.'s,
The Buckinghams,
Slave,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mummies,
Ituana,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Urselle,
Deakin,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.