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 Tunisia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 The Kinks to the funk 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Rakim,
Pylon,
Amon Düül II,
the Normal,
Funkadelic,
Reuben Wilson,
R.M.O.,
Aswad,
Flash Fearless,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
Kayak,
Boredoms,
Matthew Bourne,
Outsiders,
Yellowson,
The Durutti Column,
Sugar Minott,
Andrew Hill,
Harmonia,
Procol Harum,
In Retrospect,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mummies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zero Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delta 5,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
Jerry's Kids,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
The Sound,
DNA,
Laurel Aitken,
Toni Rubio,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Franke,
Colin Newman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Faust,
The Move,
Deepchord,
Wasted Youth,
Swans,
Inner City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.