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 Croatia and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Sarah Menescal to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
In Retrospect,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ken Boothe,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Happenings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crime,
Oneida,
The Raincoats,
Girls At Our Best!,
Subhumans,
Amon Düül II,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
Pulsallama,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
Don Cherry,
Tomorrow,
One Last Wish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacques Brel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Wake,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
Moebius,
kango's stein massive,
Black Bananas,
Whodini,
Sam Rivers,
the Normal,
The Toasters,
Lindisfarne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Teasers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
James White and The Blacks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Depeche Mode,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Connie Case,
Babytalk,
Masters at Work,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
Liliput,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.