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 Nauru and from Sao Paulo.
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 Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Reuben Wilson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Flipper,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Groovy Waters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Organ,
Excepter,
Roger Hodgson,
Dave Gahan,
Cybotron,
Chris & Cosey,
New York Dolls,
Ronnie Foster,
Hoover,
Infiniti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin,
Kerri Chandler,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wolf Eyes,
Reagan Youth,
David McCallum,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
Chrome,
Scott Walker,
the Germs,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Camberwell Now,
R.M.O.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mission of Burma,
Slick Rick,
the Swans,
ABBA,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mummies,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
KRS-One,
Cheater Slicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Golliwogs,
the Normal,
Main Source,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.