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 Korea North and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 Sex Pistols to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Panda Bear,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fortunes,
Pere Ubu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tubeway Army,
D'Angelo,
Bang On A Can,
John Foxx,
Stiv Bators,
Crispian St. Peters,
Skriet,
Underground Resistance,
Alison Limerick,
Essential Logic,
The Walker Brothers,
Accadde A,
The Cowsills,
Saccharine Trust,
Erasure,
Maleditus Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Moby Grape,
Zero Boys,
Bill Near,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Junior Murvin,
The Fall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Flash Fearless,
The Last Poets,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Blake Baxter,
Joensuu 1685,
Lee Hazlewood,
The American Breed,
the Sonics,
Josef K,
Bauhaus,
Stereo Dub,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
Gong,
The New Christs,
Barrington Levy,
Eli Mardock,
The Trojans,
The Mojo Men,
The Doors,
The Black Dice,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aloha Tigers,
A Certain Ratio,
Anthony Braxton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bad Manners,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.