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 Lesotho and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chrome to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
Wally Richardson,
Nico,
Ten City,
Brass Construction,
Royal Trux,
The Cure,
Eric Copeland,
Parry Music,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
Ronan,
Rod Modell,
Laurel Aitken,
The Vogues,
Amon Düül,
Josef K,
The Move,
Howard Jones,
Faraquet,
Barry Ungar,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ituana,
Morten Harket,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Roger Hodgson,
The Music Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Archie Shepp,
The Doors,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
Quantec,
The Star Department,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Public Enemy,
Section 25,
Cybotron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thompson Twins,
Banda Bassotti,
Kenny Larkin,
Minor Threat,
Roy Ayers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Simply Red,
Drexciya,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.