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 Liechtenstein and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Shuggie Otis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Severed Heads,
Amon Düül,
Black Pus,
cv313,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Joensuu 1685,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rapeman,
Dark Day,
The Vogues,
Smog,
Pantytec,
New Age Steppers,
Urselle,
The Blackbyrds,
The Zeros,
Q and Not U,
Nico,
H. Thieme,
The Stooges,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Rotary Connection,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
10cc,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lakeside,
Sun City Girls,
Ludus,
Depeche Mode,
Hasil Adkins,
Banda Bassotti,
The Martian,
Sarah Menescal,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Rundgren,
Bush Tetras,
Letta Mbulu,
Duran Duran,
Frankie Knuckles,
Morten Harket,
Joey Negro,
JFA,
Graham Central Station,
Todd Terry,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.