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 Haiti and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 This Heat to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fela Kuti,
R.M.O.,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Black Moon,
Groovy Waters,
The Index,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Josef K,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Archie Shepp,
Gichy Dan,
Surgeon,
Aural Exciters,
U.S. Maple,
Harmonia,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Godley & Creme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doobie Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
Sister Nancy,
Suicide,
The Pop Group,
Radio Birdman,
Section 25,
The Barracudas,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Cecil Taylor,
Marine Girls,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Faraquet,
Saccharine Trust,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
Franke,
Animal Collective,
Piero Umiliani,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fugs,
Stiv Bators,
The Moody Blues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
X-Ray Spex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.