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 Switzerland and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the disco 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Jandek,
Loose Ends,
Wings,
Bobby Sherman,
Laurel Aitken,
Tears for Fears,
The Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lower 48,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
James White and The Blacks,
Masters at Work,
Drexciya,
Joyce Sims,
Wasted Youth,
Country Teasers,
Ronan,
Scratch Acid,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiohead,
The Smiths,
Dark Day,
Cecil Taylor,
Goldenarms,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
B.T. Express,
David Axelrod,
Black Pus,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker,
Visage,
EPMD,
Surgeon,
This Heat,
Rites of Spring,
Man Parrish,
The Victims,
Gang of Four,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
Desert Stars,
Fatback Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
Television Personalities,
Girls At Our Best!,
E-Dancer,
T.S.O.L.,
Sandy B,
Mad Mike,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Busters,
Ituana,
Sight & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.