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 Andorra and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Essential Logic to the electroclash 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neu!,
Lou Reed,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Walker Brothers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Icehouse,
Ultra Naté,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Axelrod,
The J.B.'s,
Wings,
The Golliwogs,
Matthew Bourne,
Camberwell Now,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mojo Men,
Cymande,
Eddi Front,
Ten City,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
JFA,
The Real Kids,
Sugar Minott,
Brand Nubian,
Freddie Wadling,
Urselle,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Fad Gadget,
Toni Rubio,
Bauhaus,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
This Heat,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
10cc,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rekid,
Robert Görl,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erasure,
Gang Starr,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Evens,
James White and The Blacks,
Clear Light,
Rotary Connection,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amon Düül,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.