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 Madagascar and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Malaria! to the techno 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
The Five Americans,
Funkadelic,
Matthew Bourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Martian,
Pole,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eurythmics,
Silicon Teens,
Todd Rundgren,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mandrill,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Sonics,
Magma,
Joensuu 1685,
Y Pants,
The Walker Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Livin' Joy,
Scion,
a-ha,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lightning Bolt,
Stiv Bators,
Albert Ayler,
Chrome,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Colin Newman,
The Fall,
Kool Moe Dee,
Todd Terry,
China Crisis,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crooked Eye,
LL Cool J,
Eric Copeland,
Minnie Riperton,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Patti Smith,
Stereo Dub,
Scan 7,
Bush Tetras,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.