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 Netherlands and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 X-101 to the crunk 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Bad Manners,
Tres Demented,
Archie Shepp,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits,
Crooked Eye,
Steve Hackett,
L. Decosne,
Davy DMX,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dead C,
Crash Course in Science,
10cc,
Gong,
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
Brass Construction,
John Lydon,
Todd Rundgren,
Negative Approach,
Gang Green,
The Moody Blues,
Sparks,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Panda Bear,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Q65,
The Smiths,
The Martian,
a-ha,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Zeros,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warren Ellis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Index,
Supertramp,
Lyres,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tears for Fears,
Blancmange,
Iggy Pop,
The Young Rascals,
The Kinks,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.