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 El Salvador and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 The Gories to the jazz 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nas,
Nirvana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Moss Icon,
The Cure,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bush Tetras,
Grey Daturas,
Ponytail,
Pantaleimon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
Chrome,
Gang of Four,
Rekid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skaos,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Toasters,
H. Thieme,
The Cramps,
Basic Channel,
Boogie Down Productions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bronski Beat,
The Associates,
R.M.O.,
Reuben Wilson,
Soft Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy Collins,
Charles Mingus,
T.S.O.L.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Order,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobby Sherman,
Hoover,
Massinfluence,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Starr,
The Searchers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oneida,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cymande,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
Can,
Procol Harum,
The Star Department,
Marine Girls,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.