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 Ecuador and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Funky Four + One to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Tears for Fears,
Main Source,
F. McDonald,
Nils Olav,
Joyce Sims,
Eve St. Jones,
Boz Scaggs,
the Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Cymande,
The Index,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
Country Teasers,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-101,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doors,
The Happenings,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DJ Style,
The Star Department,
The Zeros,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Divine Comedy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delon & Dalcan,
MDC,
Franke,
John Holt,
Cecil Taylor,
Qualms,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Christie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
Boredoms,
Al Stewart,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Howard Jones,
Black Moon,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
The Remains,
Lungfish,
Cameo,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.