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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
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 Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Durutti Column,
The Monks,
Adolescents,
Mad Mike,
Mission of Burma,
Lalann,
Rakim,
Danielle Patucci,
Hot Snakes,
Clear Light,
Neil Young,
Ohio Players,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Martian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Boredoms,
Brothers Johnson,
Brand Nubian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joyce Sims,
the Human League,
FM Einheit,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
Drexciya,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Star Department,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gories,
Gabor Szabo,
DJ Sneak,
Matthew Halsall,
Franke,
Quantec,
the Germs,
Sun Ra,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
The Five Americans,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.