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 Kyrgyzstan and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Television to the crunk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Underground Resistance,
Guru Guru,
The Happenings,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rufus Thomas,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Count Five,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Womack,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jawbox,
Dark Day,
Neil Young,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Near,
The Grass Roots,
Heaven 17,
Talk Talk,
Piero Umiliani,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Thompson Twins,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
Michelle Simonal,
T.S.O.L.,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
Reuben Wilson,
Clear Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
The Young Rascals,
Half Japanese,
Todd Terry,
Bluetip,
Nils Olav,
Roy Ayers,
Roxette,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.