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 Lithuania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Quando Quango to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Dead Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Cal Tjader,
Popol Vuh,
Trumans Water,
Ken Boothe,
Moby Grape,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Massinfluence,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Axelrod,
DJ Sneak,
Newcleus,
Ice-T,
Magma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amon Düül,
Archie Shepp,
The Residents,
The Toasters,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Joe Finger,
Mission of Burma,
Black Bananas,
Goldenarms,
Bauhaus,
The Misunderstood,
Tom Boy,
Quantec,
Altered Images,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Real Kids,
Terry Callier,
Thee Headcoats,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
Hot Snakes,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
Fad Gadget,
Alton Ellis,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
a-ha,
The Black Dice,
the Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.