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 Vanuatu and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sonic Youth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Urselle,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Green,
Minnie Riperton,
Swell Maps,
The Angels of Light,
New Age Steppers,
The Misunderstood,
Malaria!,
the Sonics,
The Count Five,
MC5,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers,
The Searchers,
Nick Fraelich,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dark Day,
Aural Exciters,
The Buckinghams,
Frankie Knuckles,
Godley & Creme,
A Certain Ratio,
Scion,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rekid,
Jeff Lynne,
Section 25,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
Mantronix,
Harry Pussy,
Harpers Bizarre,
China Crisis,
Chrome,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Pus,
Flipper,
Wings,
R.M.O.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Goldenarms,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Parrish,
Lightning Bolt,
Popol Vuh,
the Bar-Kays,
June Days,
Clear Light,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.