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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Alphaville 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Black Flag,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pantytec,
48th St. Collective,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Thompson Twins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
The Count Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Flipper,
Simply Red,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Ten City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lakeside,
Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Roxette,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
The Blues Magoos,
Sixth Finger,
The Gladiators,
Minnie Riperton,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
Joe Finger,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Erykah Badu,
The Grass Roots,
Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Cybotron,
Zero Boys,
The Litter,
Cheater Slicks,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Section 25,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Albert Ayler,
Rod Modell,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.