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 Bahrain and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fela Kuti to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Circle Jerks,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Bowie,
Yaz,
DJ Style,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Bobby Sherman,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
Reuben Wilson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City,
Y Pants,
Loose Ends,
Charles Mingus,
Echospace,
Rufus Thomas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Judy Mowatt,
Iggy Pop,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
Thompson Twins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Alison Limerick,
Scion,
Harmonia,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bauhaus,
Camouflage,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skriet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Motorama,
Laurel Aitken,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Green,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
Donald Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Josef K,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Essential Logic,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Finger,
Moebius,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bluetip,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
The Tremeloes,
Deepchord,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.