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 Australia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terry Callier to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Nas,
Blake Baxter,
The Slits,
Wings,
Boz Scaggs,
Todd Rundgren,
Hot Snakes,
Anakelly,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Massinfluence,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ronan,
Country Teasers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
OOIOO,
Rites of Spring,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
Amon Düül II,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alison Limerick,
Stetsasonic,
PIL,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fear,
China Crisis,
Mo-Dettes,
Arcadia,
Marc Almond,
Connie Case,
Tomorrow,
Motorama,
The Sonics,
Crime,
Ponytail,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Birthday Party,
Ituana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Piero Umiliani,
Tres Demented,
The Monochrome Set,
Cameo,
Niagra,
Maleditus Sound,
Lower 48,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Newcleus,
Skaos,
Lou Reed,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.