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 Argentina and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Minutemen,
Davy DMX,
Sarah Menescal,
Aswad,
Aaron Thompson,
Saccharine Trust,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Move,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crime,
Deepchord,
DJ Style,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Susan Cadogan,
Connie Case,
Alphaville,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Robert Görl,
Dawn Penn,
Zero Boys,
Au Pairs,
Roxette,
June Days,
Main Source,
The Flesh Eaters,
Idris Muhammad,
Wolf Eyes,
DNA,
The Stooges,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Siglo XX,
John Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ludus,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül,
The Barracudas,
Camouflage,
The Misunderstood,
The Velvet Underground,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Freddie Wadling,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
Slick Rick,
Reuben Wilson,
Grauzone,
Average White Band,
ABC,
Darondo,
Soulsonic Force,
Harmonia,
Bronski Beat,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.