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 El Salvador and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Sarah Menescal to the crunk 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
June Days,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
Pagans,
Depeche Mode,
Black Moon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gichy Dan,
Monks,
Gang Starr,
Livin' Joy,
Skriet,
Rotary Connection,
Country Teasers,
The Golliwogs,
Suburban Knight,
The Fortunes,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Max Romeo,
Peter & Gordon,
Donny Hathaway,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deepchord,
The Birthday Party,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fuzztones,
The Misunderstood,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris Corsano,
DNA,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fat Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joey Negro,
Slick Rick,
Young Marble Giants,
Aaron Thompson,
Dawn Penn,
The Move,
Underground Resistance,
Bush Tetras,
Simply Red,
Maurizio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
The Music Machine,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
The Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.