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 Kenya 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Teasers to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers 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?
The Smiths,
Don Cherry,
Sun City Girls,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
X-101,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Basic Channel,
Andrew Hill,
Scan 7,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Y Pants,
New Age Steppers,
Alice Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeff Mills,
The Young Rascals,
Maurizio,
John Foxx,
Soft Cell,
Outsiders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lakeside,
Motorama,
Negative Approach,
Altered Images,
The Black Dice,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Darondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ten City,
Deadbeat,
DJ Style,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
F. McDonald,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
The Angels of Light,
Lucky Dragons,
Joey Negro,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cure,
Cameo,
Robert Hood,
Cecil Taylor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joy Division,
Newcleus,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.