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 Peru and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Count Five 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Residents,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pere Ubu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Minutemen,
Aural Exciters,
Blancmange,
Crime,
Boogie Down Productions,
This Heat,
Peter and Kerry,
Silicon Teens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sixth Finger,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Talk Talk,
Shuggie Otis,
Ken Boothe,
Henry Cow,
Delta 5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Babytalk,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
Connie Case,
Section 25,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Mo-Dettes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Smog,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Roxy Music,
Metal Thangz,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Misunderstood,
Parry Music,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-101,
The Fuzztones,
K-Klass,
D'Angelo,
The Birthday Party,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.