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 Slovakia and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slave 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Move,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Josef K,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Malaria!,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
Roxette,
Wolf Eyes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Smiths,
Dave Gahan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pantytec,
MC5,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jawbox,
Black Flag,
Anthony Braxton,
Sixth Finger,
The Invisible,
Flipper,
Unwound,
Radio Birdman,
Guru Guru,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
New Age Steppers,
The Cure,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moebius,
Bobby Womack,
Minor Threat,
ABC,
Bill Wells,
Make Up,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rapeman,
The Gun Club,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mission of Burma,
Intrusion,
Tim Buckley,
In Retrospect,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
Joensuu 1685,
Icehouse,
Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Skaos,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.