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 Finland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie 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?
Swans,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mummies,
Toni Rubio,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Banda Bassotti,
Television,
Lakeside,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Deakin,
Black Bananas,
The Seeds,
LL Cool J,
Yellowson,
Radiohead,
The Trojans,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispy Ambulance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masters at Work,
Scrapy,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Brand Nubian,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Nas,
David Bowie,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites,
the Human League,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Piero Umiliani,
R.M.O.,
Jeff Mills,
The Music Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Clear Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
Dark Day,
Icehouse,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barrington Levy,
The Human League,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Byron Stingily,
Barclay James Harvest,
CMW,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.