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 Barbados and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Wings,
David McCallum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker,
The Vogues,
Eric Dolphy,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fugazi,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blake Baxter,
Goldenarms,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Last Poets,
Jeru the Damaja,
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Joensuu 1685,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
D'Angelo,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
Minutemen,
This Heat,
Nirvana,
Average White Band,
Aural Exciters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun City Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Slits,
Black Moon,
Grey Daturas,
Television Personalities,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anthony Braxton,
a-ha,
The Offenders,
Yusef Lateef,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moebius,
Half Japanese,
The Techniques,
Magazine,
Main Source,
Al Stewart,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mark Hollis,
Faust,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.