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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare 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 The Zeros to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
48th St. Collective,
Dark Day,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
Unrelated Segments,
Sparks,
the Germs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sex Pistols,
Cluster,
Ohio Players,
Anthony Braxton,
Swans,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
Shuggie Otis,
Lalann,
The Dave Clark Five,
Suicide,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fugazi,
Max Romeo,
Moby Grape,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fortunes,
The New Christs,
Slick Rick,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultra Naté,
Brand Nubian,
The Grass Roots,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Loose Ends,
Tres Demented,
Mars,
Wasted Youth,
The Buckinghams,
The Durutti Column,
Oblivians,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Scientists,
Sarah Menescal,
Das Ding,
The Moody Blues,
The Cowsills,
Qualms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sonic Youth,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.