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 Chile and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jandek to the disco 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Shuggie Otis,
Subhumans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Swans,
Lou Christie,
Dawn Penn,
The Moleskins,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
Derrick May,
Bobby Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Sheep,
Royal Trux,
Agent Orange,
Ornette Coleman,
Sandy B,
Cluster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kas Product,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
Morten Harket,
Cal Tjader,
Harry Pussy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
The Black Dice,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Green,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Jawbox,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
Funkadelic,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
Deakin,
Rufus Thomas,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Foxx,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
Saccharine Trust,
Kerri Chandler,
D'Angelo,
Von Mondo,
Fluxion,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Chris & Cosey,
New York Dolls,
Duran Duran,
Lalann,
Nick Fraelich,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.