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 Bahamas and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Suicide to the crunk 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Black Flag,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett,
Graham Central Station,
Sällskapet,
Ludus,
The Names,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Livin' Joy,
Malaria!,
Alison Limerick,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suicide,
Hoover,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Reagan Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brand Nubian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crime,
The Smoke,
Kenny Larkin,
Hardrive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül II,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wings,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gun Club,
Nas,
The Moleskins,
Janne Schatter,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gories,
Lakeside,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Motions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ken Boothe,
Little Man,
Glambeats Corp.,
Section 25,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Parrish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Index,
Monks,
Clear Light,
Michelle Simonal,
Sarah Menescal,
Brass Construction,
Oneida,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.