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 Togo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Holger Czukay 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 Gories to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Rufus Thomas,
Au Pairs,
Wally Richardson,
Subhumans,
the Bar-Kays,
John Lydon,
Tommy Roe,
Q and Not U,
Don Cherry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Qualms,
Pulsallama,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lakeside,
Reagan Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Arthur Verocai,
Brass Construction,
Sam Rivers,
Josef K,
Unrelated Segments,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cybotron,
Moss Icon,
The Tremeloes,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Panda Bear,
World's Most,
Erasure,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Zeros,
Aloha Tigers,
Deepchord,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sound,
Sparks,
Severed Heads,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter and Kerry,
Stiv Bators,
Second Layer,
Pagans,
Main Source,
Gang of Four,
Bang On A Can,
Duran Duran,
Bauhaus,
Matthew Halsall,
Schoolly D,
Vladislav Delay,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mars,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grauzone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.