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 Burkina and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Robert Palmer 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 Symarip to the techno 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
Cymande,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
Absolute Body Control,
Thompson Twins,
Blossom Toes,
Y Pants,
Hashim,
Model 500,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
Black Flag,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soft Cell,
Urselle,
The Raincoats,
Connie Case,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Association,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Clarke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Glenn Branca,
KRS-One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Davy DMX,
Robert Görl,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roy Ayers,
The Motions,
Joe Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cramps,
Supertramp,
CMW,
Pussy Galore,
Minutemen,
Bush Tetras,
Masters at Work,
Young Marble Giants,
Lungfish,
Silicon Teens,
Ituana,
Circle Jerks,
Pylon,
Symarip,
The Pretty Things,
The Tremeloes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Average White Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.