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 Thailand and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DNA to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Wolf Eyes,
K-Klass,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smoke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
The Kinks,
The Black Dice,
Todd Rundgren,
Young Marble Giants,
Lou Christie,
The Mojo Men,
James White and The Blacks,
a-ha,
the Swans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
LL Cool J,
Minor Threat,
Liliput,
Lalann,
Minnie Riperton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Rapeman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Idris Muhammad,
Marine Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Animal Collective,
Tres Demented,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
Al Stewart,
X-Ray Spex,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
Anakelly,
Funkadelic,
Harry Pussy,
Hasil Adkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang of Four,
The Zeros,
Livin' Joy,
Aloha Tigers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Divine Comedy,
Dead Boys,
Suicide,
Mad Mike,
The Barracudas,
Joyce Sims,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.