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 Maldives and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Michael McDonald 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 Morten Harket to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Nils Olav,
Grey Daturas,
Sex Pistols,
Electric Prunes,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Sherman,
Smog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Motorama,
The Skatalites,
Main Source,
Radio Birdman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Franke,
Skarface,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roy Ayers,
Howard Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
FM Einheit,
The Techniques,
The Wake,
H. Thieme,
Slick Rick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Moon,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Pop Group,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris Corsano,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Hill,
Interpol,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Near,
Scion,
Marcia Griffiths,
Peter & Gordon,
The Walker Brothers,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Cybotron,
MDC,
Moebius,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.