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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
The Remains,
Camberwell Now,
Easy Going,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fuzztones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
This Heat,
Susan Cadogan,
Ice-T,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed,
Aural Exciters,
Cameo,
Bill Near,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
John Coltrane,
Morten Harket,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Starr,
Peter and Kerry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gichy Dan,
The Gories,
Metal Thangz,
The Buckinghams,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
Essential Logic,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gun Club,
Con Funk Shun,
Magazine,
Arab on Radar,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
Funky Four + One,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aswad,
Lucky Dragons,
Guru Guru,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispy Ambulance,
T. Rex,
Siglo XX,
Erykah Badu,
Sixth Finger,
Black Bananas,
Wally Richardson,
Porter Ricks,
Mandrill,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
the Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.