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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 The Residents to the electroclash 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Crooked Eye,
AZ,
Q and Not U,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Pulsallama,
Outsiders,
Eden Ahbez,
The Walker Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cramps,
The Five Americans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
Desert Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Skriet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ornette Coleman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Circle Jerks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crime,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
Fear,
Max Romeo,
The Beau Brummels,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amon Düül,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rites of Spring,
The Residents,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fat Boys,
Severed Heads,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Von Mondo,
Sarah Menescal,
Flash Fearless,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Con Funk Shun,
Aswad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter & Gordon,
The Victims,
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Nirvana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Motions,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.