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 Singapore and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James Chance & The Contortions 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Smog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Toni Rubio,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Seeds,
Half Japanese,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Talk Talk,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fortunes,
Ultra Naté,
Cybotron,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marvin Gaye,
Idris Muhammad,
kango's stein massive,
Sarah Menescal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angry Samoans,
cv313,
Circle Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Sixth Finger,
Kool Moe Dee,
Banda Bassotti,
Franke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxy Music,
Clear Light,
Television Personalities,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donald Byrd,
Duran Duran,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deepchord,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camberwell Now,
Wolf Eyes,
Sparks,
The Velvet Underground,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slick Rick,
The Beau Brummels,
Whodini,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
Essential Logic,
The Cure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun Ra,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.