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 Barbados and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron 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 Alice Coltrane to the electroclash 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 Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
Black Pus,
Sister Nancy,
One Last Wish,
The Fuzztones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bob Dylan,
Stiv Bators,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Velvet Underground,
The Doors,
Marmalade,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
Niagra,
Carl Craig,
Lightning Bolt,
Smog,
H. Thieme,
PIL,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
Los Fastidios,
R.M.O.,
Byron Stingily,
Charles Mingus,
LL Cool J,
Drive Like Jehu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Sound,
Blancmange,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rod Modell,
The Leaves,
F. McDonald,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barry Ungar,
Cymande,
The Victims,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric Dolphy,
Tom Boy,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
48th St. Collective,
Saccharine Trust,
The Selecter,
the Bar-Kays,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.