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 Croatia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Minor Threat,
Marvin Gaye,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Das Ding,
DJ Style,
Visage,
The Moody Blues,
MDC,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crime,
Nik Kershaw,
John Foxx,
Marc Almond,
Outsiders,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gong,
Bill Near,
These Immortal Souls,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Blackbyrds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bizarre Inc.,
Goldenarms,
CMW,
Bobby Sherman,
The Raincoats,
Massinfluence,
8 Eyed Spy,
Qualms,
Severed Heads,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Darondo,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
DNA,
Mission of Burma,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cheater Slicks,
The Associates,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Junior Murvin,
Harry Pussy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Brass Construction,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barry Ungar,
the Swans,
Prince Buster,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Music Machine,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.