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 Finland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bootsy Collins to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
EPMD,
Sonic Youth,
Warren Ellis,
The Move,
Fat Boys,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
Jerry's Kids,
The Zeros,
The Wake,
UT,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
The Divine Comedy,
T.S.O.L.,
B.T. Express,
Sun Ra,
Roxette,
Grey Daturas,
The Walker Brothers,
Audionom,
Talk Talk,
Yazoo,
The Busters,
ABBA,
The Mojo Men,
Kenny Larkin,
Popol Vuh,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fortunes,
Dave Gahan,
Dead Boys,
Sandy B,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joyce Sims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
Sound Behaviour,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Piero Umiliani,
Blake Baxter,
Babytalk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Procol Harum,
Sam Rivers,
The Moleskins,
The Fuzztones,
Minor Threat,
Alice Coltrane,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.