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 Taiwan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Minnie Riperton,
Rekid,
Unrelated Segments,
Brothers Johnson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Boredoms,
Godley & Creme,
The Blackbyrds,
ABC,
The Slackers,
KRS-One,
Heaven 17,
The Golliwogs,
World's Most,
Crash Course in Science,
Nils Olav,
Terry Callier,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lucky Dragons,
The Happenings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fuzztones,
ABBA,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
Q and Not U,
Dead Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sam Rivers,
One Last Wish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monochrome Set,
Donny Hathaway,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
10cc,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Motions,
Technova,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Model 500,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Roxette,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.