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 Nicaragua and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 R.M.O. to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
PIL,
Boz Scaggs,
the Association,
Y Pants,
Brick,
Sun Ra,
A Certain Ratio,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeru the Damaja,
Little Man,
Hasil Adkins,
Wire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
Robert Hood,
Tres Demented,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sparks,
Erasure,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
Livin' Joy,
Gong,
Cheater Slicks,
Essential Logic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harmonia,
The Pretty Things,
Index,
Monolake,
Severed Heads,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Motorama,
Lou Reed,
Excepter,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Finger,
Tropical Tobacco,
Average White Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Sandy B,
F. McDonald,
Iggy Pop,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart,
MDC,
kango's stein massive,
Mo-Dettes,
The Angels of Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Busters,
Sonic Youth,
Sugar Minott,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.