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 Mongolia and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
DJ Style,
Moebius,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scion,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skarface,
The Flesh Eaters,
James White and The Blacks,
June of 44,
Archie Shepp,
The Raincoats,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
The Dirtbombs,
Tim Buckley,
Warren Ellis,
The Monks,
The Zeros,
David Axelrod,
Bang On A Can,
Duran Duran,
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
The Associates,
Gabor Szabo,
Laurel Aitken,
Fatback Band,
DNA,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Supertramp,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pagans,
Franke,
Yellowson,
Cecil Taylor,
Josef K,
The Divine Comedy,
Scratch Acid,
Soul Sonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Vainqueur,
Boredoms,
Eric Copeland,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Fugazi,
The Cure,
Funky Four + One,
Liliput,
Kenny Larkin,
Pantytec,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.