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 Venezuela and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Main Source to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
Nick Fraelich,
The Happenings,
Minor Threat,
Flash Fearless,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terry Callier,
Mark Hollis,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Pus,
Josef K,
The Gories,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
FM Einheit,
Cecil Taylor,
Index,
Matthew Bourne,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra,
Todd Terry,
The Gun Club,
Crime,
Television Personalities,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Kas Product,
Scrapy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Cell,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronnie Foster,
Soul II Soul,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Music Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Interpol,
Matthew Halsall,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
Morten Harket,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Bananas,
Pantytec,
DJ Sneak,
The Litter,
Sällskapet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wally Richardson,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.