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 Egypt and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum 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 güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Music Machine,
Derrick May,
The Moleskins,
Cheater Slicks,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
The Last Poets,
Crooked Eye,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sex Pistols,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül II,
Ludus,
The Blackbyrds,
Bronski Beat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slick Rick,
Pierre Henry,
X-102,
John Foxx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Newcleus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vladislav Delay,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Susan Cadogan,
The Victims,
The Smoke,
UT,
Joey Negro,
The Toasters,
Neu!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pulsallama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
David McCallum,
Vainqueur,
The Zeros,
The Moody Blues,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gories,
Bauhaus,
The Fugs,
Camouflage,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
One Last Wish,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Starr,
Livin' Joy,
Malaria!,
Alison Limerick,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.