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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Circle Jerks to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Flamin' Groovies,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Junior Murvin,
Japan,
Lightning Bolt,
The Blues Magoos,
Marine Girls,
Marc Almond,
Jacques Brel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arab on Radar,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minutemen,
Whodini,
Radio Birdman,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
Newcleus,
Unrelated Segments,
Radiohead,
Joensuu 1685,
David Bowie,
L. Decosne,
Alice Coltrane,
Toni Rubio,
X-102,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Easy Going,
Interpol,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fortunes,
One Last Wish,
Cymande,
Delta 5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Mars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arthur Verocai,
Brick,
Hashim,
Michelle Simonal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Susan Cadogan,
Byron Stingily,
Carl Craig,
Gong,
the Normal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lee Hazlewood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lindisfarne,
The Slits,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Terry Callier,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Lower 48,
Visage,
Ultravox,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.