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 South Africa and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Standells to the punk 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
Guru Guru,
Roxette,
The Zeros,
Ronan,
The Gap Band,
The Toasters,
Fluxion,
Soft Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Raincoats,
The Residents,
Black Moon,
A Certain Ratio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Public Enemy,
Piero Umiliani,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
FM Einheit,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
The Young Rascals,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amon Düül,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Martian,
The Slackers,
Bang On A Can,
Essential Logic,
Pylon,
Sound Behaviour,
Trumans Water,
Aural Exciters,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry's Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Lyres,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris & Cosey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
Beasts of Bourbon,
China Crisis,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.