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 Ecuador and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Golliwogs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Faust,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anakelly,
The Cowsills,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Happenings,
Pole,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
Animal Collective,
Joe Smooth,
Technova,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Standells,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxette,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Trojans,
Mr. Review,
Brothers Johnson,
Darondo,
Connie Case,
Zero Boys,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Deepchord,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Judy Mowatt,
Can,
kango's stein massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
Procol Harum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
Mark Hollis,
The Martian,
The Moody Blues,
James White and The Blacks,
Loose Ends,
Simply Red,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Durutti Column,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Charles Mingus,
Janne Schatter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Easy Going,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.