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 Mexico and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Beau Brummels to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Tomorrow,
ABBA,
The Pretty Things,
The Saints,
Faraquet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joy Division,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Bananas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Joyce Sims,
Carl Craig,
Gang of Four,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dual Sessions,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Fad Gadget,
The Techniques,
Talk Talk,
Nils Olav,
Lebanon Hanover,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
The Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thompson Twins,
Amazonics,
Altered Images,
In Retrospect,
X-101,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Todd Terry,
Marvin Gaye,
Pylon,
Panda Bear,
Electric Prunes,
DJ Sneak,
The Dead C,
Drive Like Jehu,
LL Cool J,
10cc,
Eve St. Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Outsiders,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bootsy Collins,
Intrusion,
Jacques Brel,
Sight & Sound,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echospace,
MC5,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.