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 Korea South and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 kango's stein massive to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Section 25,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grauzone,
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
The Evens,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zapp,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Görl,
Theoretical Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
The Real Kids,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slave,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare,
Crime,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Goldenarms,
Joyce Sims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rotary Connection,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Star Department,
LL Cool J,
Jawbox,
Jimmy McGriff,
In Retrospect,
Hashim,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
The Selecter,
The Associates,
Brand Nubian,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
The Walker Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
R.M.O.,
Urselle,
The Beau Brummels,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Neil Young,
EPMD,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.