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 Burkina and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 Nirvana to the disco 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Derrick May,
Mark Hollis,
Clear Light,
The J.B.'s,
Barbara Tucker,
Wire,
D'Angelo,
Television,
The Durutti Column,
Magma,
Buzzcocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
Bob Dylan,
Crooked Eye,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultra Naté,
Moebius,
Mars,
Cheater Slicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
Scott Walker,
Hardrive,
Masters at Work,
Y Pants,
Pere Ubu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alphaville,
the Normal,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T.S.O.L.,
Ornette Coleman,
Sex Pistols,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
Bad Manners,
Jacob Miller,
Essential Logic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
Das Ding,
FM Einheit,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Motorama,
Pet Shop Boys,
Prince Buster,
Yusef Lateef,
Joey Negro,
Trumans Water,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fela Kuti,
The Gap Band,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.