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 Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Maleditus Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Roxy Music,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minnie Riperton,
Blossom Toes,
Matthew Bourne,
OOIOO,
The Happenings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
In Retrospect,
Reagan Youth,
Cluster,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Zero Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Archie Shepp,
Warsaw,
Chrome,
Boredoms,
Jeff Mills,
The Pretty Things,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Lyres,
Hashim,
Infiniti,
Mantronix,
Tommy Roe,
UT,
Au Pairs,
Sex Pistols,
Anakelly,
Jandek,
FM Einheit,
the Human League,
Monolake,
Leonard Cohen,
Excepter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Beau Brummels,
Funky Four + One,
Eric Copeland,
Pantaleimon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Byron Stingily,
Cecil Taylor,
Eden Ahbez,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.