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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 The Flesh Eaters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Intrusion,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Music Machine,
Babytalk,
Camberwell Now,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Whodini,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New Age Steppers,
Khruangbin,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
Funky Four + One,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
FM Einheit,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
Susan Cadogan,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Bobby Womack,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pere Ubu,
Janne Schatter,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
X-101,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Massinfluence,
Can,
Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Grey Daturas,
Rosa Yemen,
Sixth Finger,
Alphaville,
The Moody Blues,
Marine Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Near,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
PIL,
Vladislav Delay,
The Skatalites,
K-Klass,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
Nick Fraelich,
E-Dancer,
Von Mondo,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.