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 Djibouti and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Offenders to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
K-Klass,
Maurizio,
Ossler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Faust,
Darondo,
Ronnie Foster,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare,
Danielle Patucci,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
Chrome,
Anakelly,
the Human League,
Derrick May,
Audionom,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sparks,
Blake Baxter,
Groovy Waters,
Prince Buster,
The Divine Comedy,
Scrapy,
Monks,
Archie Shepp,
Tim Buckley,
8 Eyed Spy,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Los Fastidios,
Outsiders,
Rod Modell,
John Holt,
Panda Bear,
Schoolly D,
Can,
Peter & Gordon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter and Kerry,
Popol Vuh,
Ronan,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras,
DJ Style,
Sister Nancy,
Ultravox,
Moebius,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Lynne,
The Litter,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric Dolphy,
Dead Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.