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 Montenegro and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mission of Burma to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joy Division,
Technova,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Human League,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Görl,
Blossom Toes,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy Collins,
Dual Sessions,
Alison Limerick,
The Moody Blues,
Kerri Chandler,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Animal Collective,
Subhumans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mojo Men,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erasure,
Hot Snakes,
Terry Callier,
Moss Icon,
Pagans,
10cc,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
Funky Four + One,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Neu!,
Bush Tetras,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
Man Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Human League,
June of 44,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Lower 48,
Oblivians,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
Ten City,
Kevin Saunderson,
Swans,
Nico,
Main Source,
Nik Kershaw,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kaleidoscope,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.