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 Taiwan and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lungfish to the disco 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aaron Thompson,
Morten Harket,
Slick Rick,
Barry Ungar,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Misunderstood,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Magma,
June of 44,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Trumans Water,
Joyce Sims,
The Knickerbockers,
Jawbox,
Lalann,
Heaven 17,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lebanon Hanover,
K-Klass,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Royal Trux,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Little Man,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Average White Band,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
Audionom,
Los Fastidios,
Johnny Osbourne,
Accadde A,
Albert Ayler,
Thompson Twins,
Niagra,
Cecil Taylor,
Slave,
Aswad,
These Immortal Souls,
The Black Dice,
the Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
The Leaves,
Skarface,
Wings,
Roger Hodgson,
Joensuu 1685,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.