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 Bahrain and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
The Electric Prunes,
Organ,
The Doors,
Whodini,
Lee Hazlewood,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
PIL,
Yaz,
Archie Shepp,
the Swans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Holt,
Lindisfarne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quando Quango,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
Barbara Tucker,
Talk Talk,
Eurythmics,
Eve St. Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
Subhumans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mantronix,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Magazine,
The Modern Lovers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlback,
The J.B.'s,
Wolf Eyes,
Television,
Bronski Beat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cluster,
Rapeman,
New York Dolls,
Deepchord,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skriet,
Fear,
Bluetip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.