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 Saudi Arabia 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Warren Ellis to the punk 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Cal Tjader,
Hoover,
R.M.O.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skriet,
The Sound,
The United States of America,
Animal Collective,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Khruangbin,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
The Walker Brothers,
Eurythmics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Make Up,
The Neon Judgement,
Adolescents,
Desert Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Hill,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Excepter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Minutemen,
Faraquet,
Freddie Wadling,
Negative Approach,
The Gladiators,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
X-102,
Fat Boys,
Connie Case,
the Bar-Kays,
Eddi Front,
Sam Rivers,
China Crisis,
Wasted Youth,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
Michelle Simonal,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eve St. Jones,
Yellowson,
The Monochrome Set,
This Heat,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.