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 Nicaragua and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Byron Stingily to the rock 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
Sugar Minott,
Faust,
Howard Jones,
Average White Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Funky Four + One,
Robert Hood,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul Sonic Force,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mandrill,
Joe Finger,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
Gregory Isaacs,
The New Christs,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Moebius,
Cameo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Intrusion,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
Sarah Menescal,
Susan Cadogan,
The Birthday Party,
Thompson Twins,
Bang On A Can,
Wally Richardson,
Minnie Riperton,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
KRS-One,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maleditus Sound,
The Saints,
DNA,
Masters at Work,
Tears for Fears,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
the Swans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moby Grape,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stiv Bators,
Funkadelic,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Accadde A,
Lou Christie,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.