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 Comoros and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Easy Going to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Visage,
Deadbeat,
The Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Chrome,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ken Boothe,
Unrelated Segments,
The Last Poets,
Severed Heads,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Magma,
Eric Copeland,
The Busters,
Eve St. Jones,
Yaz,
Television Personalities,
Grauzone,
Nico,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Connie Case,
The Martian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore,
The Black Dice,
Banda Bassotti,
The J.B.'s,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eric Dolphy,
Pylon,
Oneida,
Aswad,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
Zapp,
Pere Ubu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cameo,
Mad Mike,
the Association,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Pantytec,
Infiniti,
Sam Rivers,
Pierre Henry,
The Cowsills,
Rotary Connection,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.