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 Tajikistan and from New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cheater Slicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Gang Starr,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
The Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Raincoats,
The Angels of Light,
Camberwell Now,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mission of Burma,
Pharoah Sanders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dark Day,
Organ,
Mr. Review,
Jandek,
This Heat,
Blancmange,
Gastr Del Sol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Slits,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Görl,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Josef K,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Juan Atkins,
Tom Boy,
Boredoms,
Massinfluence,
Scrapy,
Magma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bluetip,
Jawbox,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Symarip,
Newcleus,
Nirvana,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
Piero Umiliani,
Albert Ayler,
Rufus Thomas,
Pole,
Joy Division,
Whodini,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.