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 Canada and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Black Pus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Radio Birdman,
EPMD,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cramps,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
Metal Thangz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Birthday Party,
Judy Mowatt,
Cybotron,
Slave,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bob Dylan,
Smog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pussy Galore,
the Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
Erykah Badu,
The Motions,
Eden Ahbez,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Chrome,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marmalade,
DJ Sneak,
The Cure,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drexciya,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Accadde A,
Stockholm Monsters,
Piero Umiliani,
Unrelated Segments,
Juan Atkins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fat Boys,
Marine Girls,
The Last Poets,
Faraquet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.