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 Switzerland and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lucky Dragons to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Knickerbockers,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Leaves,
Dark Day,
the Human League,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sonic Youth,
the Fania All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
Dawn Penn,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
Radio Birdman,
cv313,
Moebius,
Intrusion,
David Axelrod,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Selecter,
Whodini,
Derrick Morgan,
Deepchord,
China Crisis,
K-Klass,
The Star Department,
Aaron Thompson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Near,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smiths,
Hashim,
Rosa Yemen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kurtis Blow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Electric Prunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Little Man,
Goldenarms,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Sunsets and Hearts,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yazoo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.