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 Singapore and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Selecter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Techniques,
This Heat,
Junior Murvin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
Dark Day,
Intrusion,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scratch Acid,
Von Mondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minutemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hashim,
Spoonie Gee,
Skarface,
Aaron Thompson,
Barbara Tucker,
Rites of Spring,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy Collins,
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
Nils Olav,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Infiniti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stetsasonic,
Alison Limerick,
The Dead C,
Henry Cow,
Maleditus Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camouflage,
Nico,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
Rotary Connection,
Colin Newman,
The Kinks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Human League,
The Gap Band,
Sandy B,
Reuben Wilson,
Malaria!,
Electric Prunes,
The Star Department,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.