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 Suriname and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 Skaos to the punk 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Funky Four + One,
John Foxx,
Godley & Creme,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aaron Thompson,
Rakim,
Toni Rubio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glenn Branca,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rotary Connection,
Soft Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joe Finger,
Sonic Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Inner City,
Lebanon Hanover,
MDC,
June of 44,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
Eric Copeland,
Kaleidoscope,
Make Up,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron,
Sarah Menescal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pulsallama,
Crash Course in Science,
Outsiders,
Moebius,
The Grass Roots,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ludus,
John Cale,
Gang Green,
Vladislav Delay,
Patti Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
The Searchers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.