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 Botswana and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 Severed Heads to the rock 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Absolute Body Control,
The Blackbyrds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Slits,
Soft Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Television,
Gregory Isaacs,
Groovy Waters,
Black Moon,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Pretty Things,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joyce Sims,
Prince Buster,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smiths,
Bobby Womack,
Severed Heads,
Erasure,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cure,
The Names,
Flipper,
Lee Hazlewood,
Organ,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
The Mojo Men,
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gichy Dan,
Jeff Lynne,
Wire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nik Kershaw,
Skarface,
Harry Pussy,
Mr. Review,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nas,
The New Christs,
Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tim Buckley,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultra Naté,
Pagans,
Adolescents,
Robert Görl,
Aloha Tigers,
JFA,
The Barracudas,
Kas Product,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.