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 Bangladesh and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
Popol Vuh,
The Happenings,
Anakelly,
Dark Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
The Gun Club,
Easy Going,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Motions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Peter and Kerry,
The Saints,
the Germs,
H. Thieme,
Tim Buckley,
Rod Modell,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Kinks,
EPMD,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Steve Hackett,
Sandy B,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pagans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radio Birdman,
Lalann,
Duran Duran,
Oneida,
Alice Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Bobby Byrd,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Modern Lovers,
Organ,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
Tommy Roe,
Oblivians,
Frankie Knuckles,
E-Dancer,
Soul II Soul,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.