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 Kuwait and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Vainqueur 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
The Red Krayola,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ice-T,
Silicon Teens,
The Selecter,
Q and Not U,
Godley & Creme,
Lower 48,
The Divine Comedy,
Deepchord,
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Aswad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Laurel Aitken,
Nils Olav,
New Age Steppers,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
Circle Jerks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Au Pairs,
Vladislav Delay,
Radio Birdman,
Lucky Dragons,
X-Ray Spex,
The Names,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
The Stooges,
Altered Images,
Bauhaus,
Boredoms,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Public Enemy,
Bad Manners,
Stockholm Monsters,
Urselle,
H. Thieme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Model 500,
Hashim,
The Sonics,
Subhumans,
Funky Four + One,
Can,
Cybotron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.