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 Tajikistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 American Breed to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Moebius,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
Easy Going,
The Five Americans,
Ice-T,
cv313,
the Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pylon,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fluxion,
Glenn Branca,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
The Toasters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MDC,
Monolake,
Matthew Bourne,
Sister Nancy,
T. Rex,
Flash Fearless,
Minutemen,
The United States of America,
Dead Boys,
The Techniques,
Ultravox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kurtis Blow,
Masters at Work,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lungfish,
The Happenings,
Wolf Eyes,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pulsallama,
kango's stein massive,
Inner City,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Liliput,
Vainqueur,
Aural Exciters,
Minor Threat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Warsaw,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scientists,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.