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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 John Foxx to the electroclash 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wolf Eyes,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Association,
Boz Scaggs,
Nas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cymande,
The Star Department,
The Toasters,
Agent Orange,
Pole,
Lou Reed,
Al Stewart,
Lou Christie,
The Doors,
Soulsonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
Das Ding,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Don Cherry,
Moby Grape,
Scrapy,
Model 500,
Con Funk Shun,
Toni Rubio,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Kinks,
The Angels of Light,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
A Certain Ratio,
Funky Four + One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Niagra,
Adolescents,
X-Ray Spex,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
The Divine Comedy,
Main Source,
James White and The Blacks,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
John Lydon,
Hoover,
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.