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 Malaysia 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vladislav Delay to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
This Heat,
Scratch Acid,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Names,
James White and The Blacks,
10cc,
The Victims,
Vainqueur,
The United States of America,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
Robert Görl,
Erasure,
Television,
Howard Jones,
Fear,
Max Romeo,
Ornette Coleman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tomorrow,
Davy DMX,
Hashim,
Silicon Teens,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Star Department,
Trumans Water,
Chris & Cosey,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eric Copeland,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
Traffic Nightmare,
Freddie Wadling,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Lightning Bolt,
Juan Atkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Main Source,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Pere Ubu,
Scion,
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.