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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Womack to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Yusef Lateef,
Radio Birdman,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Toasters,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Warsaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Heaven 17,
Letta Mbulu,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Wake,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blues Magoos,
the Human League,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Crime,
Whodini,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Mills,
Jawbox,
The Cowsills,
Eddi Front,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Flag,
The Tremeloes,
Technova,
Kerri Chandler,
Joey Negro,
Y Pants,
Scientists,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
Deadbeat,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
Masters at Work,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tommy Roe,
Soul II Soul,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Reagan Youth,
Supertramp,
Rakim,
Brand Nubian,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shuggie Otis,
The Searchers,
John Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
The Misunderstood,
New Order,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.