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 Tunisia and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Khruangbin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
A Certain Ratio,
Zero Boys,
the Germs,
the Soft Cell,
Kaleidoscope,
Suicide,
Heaven 17,
Pierre Henry,
DNA,
Quando Quango,
Radiohead,
Jandek,
Carl Craig,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Toni Rubio,
Yaz,
Eurythmics,
Gong,
Reuben Wilson,
Pussy Galore,
New Order,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unwound,
Model 500,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Hardrive,
Glenn Branca,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama,
The Invisible,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grey Daturas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mr. Review,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
The Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
The Smoke,
Stiv Bators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Divine Comedy,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.