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 Djibouti and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 The Happenings to the crunk 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hardrive,
Howard Jones,
Slave,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Davy DMX,
Agitation Free,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scion,
Ice-T,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Christie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
The Kinks,
Letta Mbulu,
Barry Ungar,
K-Klass,
The Divine Comedy,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
Magma,
Los Fastidios,
Tim Buckley,
Rufus Thomas,
Lyres,
Swans,
Pulsallama,
Model 500,
Wire,
Todd Rundgren,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker,
The American Breed,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Bananas,
Yazoo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Glambeats Corp.,
F. McDonald,
The Dead C,
KRS-One,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sällskapet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
Skriet,
Hashim,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.