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 Yemen and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Index,
Darondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aswad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Freddie Wadling,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Urselle,
Swell Maps,
X-Ray Spex,
Metal Thangz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Hill,
Main Source,
Lalann,
Reagan Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
The Saints,
Q and Not U,
Mr. Review,
The Knickerbockers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
Warren Ellis,
Black Bananas,
Skarface,
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The J.B.'s,
Girls At Our Best!,
Average White Band,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
Traffic Nightmare,
One Last Wish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxette,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Smog,
Joensuu 1685,
The American Breed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Moss Icon,
Althea and Donna,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.