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 Japan and from Delhi.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Porter Ricks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
T. Rex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stiv Bators,
Lalann,
Crime,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marmalade,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monks,
Wings,
Susan Cadogan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Faust,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Beau Brummels,
Davy DMX,
Eden Ahbez,
Porter Ricks,
the Association,
Yaz,
The Walker Brothers,
Blake Baxter,
Nils Olav,
The Star Department,
Sam Rivers,
The Human League,
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cluster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül,
Newcleus,
Kurtis Blow,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lou Reed,
Banda Bassotti,
Theoretical Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ponytail,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn,
KRS-One,
K-Klass,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smiths,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
World's Most,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.