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 Malaysia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Yaz to the grunge 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Freddie Wadling,
Lower 48,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sixth Finger,
CMW,
The Mojo Men,
Swans,
Dave Gahan,
The Slackers,
Derrick Morgan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
ABC,
Black Pus,
The Neon Judgement,
The Birthday Party,
Skarface,
Marine Girls,
Severed Heads,
The Doors,
Maurizio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dennis Brown,
Glenn Branca,
Mission of Burma,
Black Flag,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New Age Steppers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
Loose Ends,
The Gories,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
The Stooges,
Ornette Coleman,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eddi Front,
Make Up,
Barrington Levy,
China Crisis,
Peter and Kerry,
Surgeon,
Brand Nubian,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.