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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Deakin to the techno 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Absolute Body Control,
Royal Trux,
Black Pus,
Grauzone,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
Black Bananas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thompson Twins,
Bauhaus,
Toni Rubio,
Masters at Work,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Finger,
The Tremeloes,
Letta Mbulu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Wake,
Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
Mo-Dettes,
Magazine,
Ultravox,
The Gladiators,
D'Angelo,
Shoche,
Pylon,
Anakelly,
Stiv Bators,
The Leaves,
New York Dolls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television Personalities,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Subhumans,
Wally Richardson,
Shuggie Otis,
Brand Nubian,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
Schoolly D,
Connie Case,
Robert Hood,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Max Romeo,
Laurel Aitken,
MDC,
June Days,
Funky Four + One,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.