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 Thailand and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 China Crisis to the disco 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Pus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dead C,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bad Manners,
Dorothy Ashby,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deadbeat,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Clear Light,
Mandrill,
PIL,
Barrington Levy,
Magazine,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Womack,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Judy Mowatt,
Nirvana,
Von Mondo,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Trojans,
Severed Heads,
The Names,
Godley & Creme,
The United States of America,
Rites of Spring,
Mission of Burma,
The Dave Clark Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
Quantec,
Crime,
Josef K,
Shoche,
Black Moon,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Rotary Connection,
Interpol,
Unwound,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eddi Front,
Skaos,
8 Eyed Spy,
Section 25,
Pere Ubu,
UT,
Grey Daturas,
The Fugs,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Sarah Menescal,
Reuben Wilson,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.