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 Grenada and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 The Smoke to the rock 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Durutti Column,
Los Fastidios,
the Normal,
F. McDonald,
Stiv Bators,
The Sonics,
Archie Shepp,
Fear,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mad Mike,
Deakin,
The Real Kids,
Scrapy,
Bobby Womack,
Laurel Aitken,
John Cale,
Robert Hood,
Supertramp,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chris Corsano,
Gabor Szabo,
the Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Connie Case,
Oneida,
Roxy Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
Max Romeo,
Spoonie Gee,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Lydon,
The Fortunes,
Animal Collective,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Unwound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Sherman,
Harmonia,
Make Up,
The Busters,
Ituana,
Chrome,
Niagra,
Nick Fraelich,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cal Tjader,
the Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Clarke,
Scott Walker,
The Cure,
The Neon Judgement,
Babytalk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radio Birdman,
Absolute Body Control,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.