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 Chile and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Metal Thangz to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Collins. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fela Kuti,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cymande,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Qualms,
AZ,
The Cure,
Agitation Free,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick Morgan,
Kurtis Blow,
Judy Mowatt,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Swans,
Echospace,
Slick Rick,
Supertramp,
Thee Headcoats,
Warsaw,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Bourne,
Heaven 17,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Almond,
LL Cool J,
Sexual Harrassment,
Urselle,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
The Happenings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Evens,
Avey Tare,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Mad Mike,
Quantec,
the Sonics,
David Axelrod,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.