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 Colombia 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Techniques,
Easy Going,
Scratch Acid,
The Moody Blues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Names,
Urselle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Patti Smith,
Marc Almond,
John Holt,
Inner City,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Bush Tetras,
Monks,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funky Four + One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shoche,
Hashim,
Pantytec,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Boz Scaggs,
Cameo,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
The Seeds,
Livin' Joy,
JFA,
U.S. Maple,
Altered Images,
The Angels of Light,
Angry Samoans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
Icehouse,
The Shadows of Knight,
The J.B.'s,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faust,
Althea and Donna,
Terry Callier,
Visage,
Fluxion,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pretty Things,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.