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 Gambia and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Al Stewart to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Gabor Szabo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thee Headcoats,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ludus,
Kaleidoscope,
Moby Grape,
Accadde A,
Crispian St. Peters,
Parry Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
The Monochrome Set,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Flag,
Prince Buster,
Ornette Coleman,
Radio Birdman,
The Dirtbombs,
The Martian,
Michelle Simonal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Section 25,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fuzztones,
The Fortunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Boredoms,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
Royal Trux,
Marine Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crime,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Womack,
R.M.O.,
Organ,
Kas Product,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharoah Sanders,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lindisfarne,
Cluster,
Terry Callier,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
Popol Vuh,
The Toasters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Von Mondo,
Flash Fearless,
Desert Stars,
The Litter,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.