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 Mali and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pagans to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Deakin,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monks,
Crooked Eye,
Jandek,
UT,
Drexciya,
Moebius,
Public Enemy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Supertramp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gladiators,
The Residents,
The Durutti Column,
B.T. Express,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Arthur Verocai,
Al Stewart,
Gang of Four,
Sparks,
Kerri Chandler,
Section 25,
Eve St. Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Bush Tetras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
LL Cool J,
Desert Stars,
The Motions,
Chris Corsano,
Buzzcocks,
Sugar Minott,
F. McDonald,
Black Pus,
The Selecter,
X-102,
Audionom,
Accadde A,
China Crisis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agitation Free,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sonic Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lyres,
The Real Kids,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.