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 Seychelles and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Heaven 17 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
The Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grauzone,
Ice-T,
Surgeon,
Pulsallama,
Adolescents,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy Collins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brothers Johnson,
B.T. Express,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Mr. Review,
Make Up,
The Last Poets,
Index,
Qualms,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Stooges,
Magma,
The Cowsills,
Brand Nubian,
Sugar Minott,
Al Stewart,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Ituana,
Skriet,
Faraquet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacob Miller,
Liliput,
Todd Rundgren,
Quantec,
Lucky Dragons,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
The Star Department,
Basic Channel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swell Maps,
Blancmange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Juan Atkins,
UT,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.