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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
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 spring reverb 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 One Last Wish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Curtis Mayfield,
Desert Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rosa Yemen,
Toni Rubio,
Inner City,
Grey Daturas,
U.S. Maple,
Althea and Donna,
The Walker Brothers,
Mandrill,
The Pop Group,
Intrusion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Sandy B,
The J.B.'s,
Agent Orange,
Roger Hodgson,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Todd Rundgren,
Iggy Pop,
Skaos,
Goldenarms,
the Slits,
Eddi Front,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABBA,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
The Move,
Eli Mardock,
Archie Shepp,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Birthday Party,
The Associates,
Mantronix,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Lower 48,
Bang On A Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spoonie Gee,
Niagra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Swans,
Adolescents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blancmange,
Chris Corsano,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.