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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bizarre Inc. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ohio Players,
The Martian,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gun Club,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sarah Menescal,
Graham Central Station,
Glenn Branca,
The Last Poets,
Trumans Water,
Hot Snakes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Echospace,
The Saints,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bad Manners,
Bill Near,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Barrington Levy,
Technova,
The Moleskins,
DJ Style,
K-Klass,
Pussy Galore,
Bluetip,
Marmalade,
Bauhaus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare,
The Standells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Lakeside,
Lyres,
The Cure,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Drexciya,
Alphaville,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
Minutemen,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.