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 Malawi 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Babytalk to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Unrelated Segments,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pere Ubu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultra Naté,
The Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
Black Flag,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Henry Cow,
The Durutti Column,
The Barracudas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oneida,
Tubeway Army,
The Velvet Underground,
John Holt,
Blossom Toes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Sandy B,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barbara Tucker,
June of 44,
Robert Görl,
a-ha,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed,
Deakin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fear,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
the Soft Cell,
Warren Ellis,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skarface,
Heaven 17,
X-102,
JFA,
Sun Ra,
Interpol,
Barry Ungar,
Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare,
The Red Krayola,
Lyres,
Khruangbin,
The Martian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cowsills,
Duran Duran,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.