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 Malta and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 E-Dancer to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
The Neon Judgement,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
UT,
John Lydon,
Ultravox,
Duran Duran,
Sonic Youth,
Public Enemy,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Cluster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Severed Heads,
Black Flag,
The Blues Magoos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DJ Style,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Red Krayola,
Erasure,
Minny Pops,
Minutemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang of Four,
Make Up,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liliput,
X-102,
Black Sheep,
Television,
X-101,
Reagan Youth,
The Victims,
Pulsallama,
Half Japanese,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Can,
Siglo XX,
Massinfluence,
Panda Bear,
Dead Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Steve Hackett,
The Names,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U,
Arthur Verocai,
Sarah Menescal,
PIL,
The Velvet Underground,
Brick,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.