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 Russia and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wings to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
kango's stein massive,
Little Man,
Ultra Naté,
Fugazi,
A Certain Ratio,
Chris & Cosey,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Parrish,
The Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
Stiv Bators,
Amon Düül,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Unwound,
The Pretty Things,
Funky Four + One,
48th St. Collective,
Visage,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
Lindisfarne,
Sarah Menescal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Association,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kas Product,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
David Axelrod,
Isaac Hayes,
Wolf Eyes,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
Circle Jerks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Lydon,
Royal Trux,
Mission of Burma,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ponytail,
Lightning Bolt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers,
Funkadelic,
Letta Mbulu,
James White and The Blacks,
Rotary Connection,
X-101,
Silicon Teens,
Hardrive,
Fear,
Tres Demented,
Fatback Band,
Joyce Sims,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Model 500,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.