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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Shadows of Knight to the dance 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Shadows of Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minutemen,
Lalann,
The Skatalites,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Clarke,
Mr. Review,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
The Names,
Grauzone,
The Invisible,
Anthony Braxton,
Glambeats Corp.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang of Four,
Sonic Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
D'Angelo,
B.T. Express,
R.M.O.,
Ludus,
Country Teasers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
kango's stein massive,
Leonard Cohen,
Desert Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
UT,
Hoover,
DJ Style,
Patti Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Residents,
The Gap Band,
Pere Ubu,
Black Sheep,
Marvin Gaye,
Cybotron,
8 Eyed Spy,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
FM Einheit,
Groovy Waters,
Young Marble Giants,
The Last Poets,
Pulsallama,
Shoche,
Gong,
Amazonics,
KRS-One,
Robert Wyatt,
Fat Boys,
The Remains,
Heaven 17,
Animal Collective,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.