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 Ivory Coast and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
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 linndrum 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 The Beau Brummels to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The United States of America,
Y Pants,
Flipper,
James White and The Blacks,
Erasure,
Panda Bear,
Eli Mardock,
Donald Byrd,
David Axelrod,
The Monks,
the Bar-Kays,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Sonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Basic Channel,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blackbyrds,
Wolf Eyes,
The Litter,
Buzzcocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cowsills,
Nico,
The Dirtbombs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultravox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scan 7,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kenny Larkin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Modern Lovers,
Kurtis Blow,
Section 25,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
The Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swans,
Skarface,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Shoche,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
K-Klass,
Silicon Teens,
Rosa Yemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delta 5,
Isaac Hayes,
The J.B.'s,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
Wally Richardson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nirvana,
Reuben Wilson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Guru Guru,
the Association,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Andrew Hill,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.