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 Somalia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Unwound to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Mo-Dettes,
Au Pairs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Flag,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tim Buckley,
Glenn Branca,
Joyce Sims,
Susan Cadogan,
The Busters,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Tremeloes,
Interpol,
Suburban Knight,
X-101,
The Cowsills,
Adolescents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donny Hathaway,
The Walker Brothers,
Yazoo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Altered Images,
Erykah Badu,
Intrusion,
UT,
Aaron Thompson,
This Heat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bob Dylan,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
Pierre Henry,
Howard Jones,
Pussy Galore,
Deadbeat,
Unwound,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
Index,
Darondo,
Flipper,
Marvin Gaye,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker,
the Germs,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Smog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick Morgan,
KRS-One,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.