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 Switzerland and from London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Technova to the punk 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Ituana,
The Neon Judgement,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sight & Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Rod Modell,
Anakelly,
Connie Case,
Minor Threat,
John Coltrane,
Rotary Connection,
Radio Birdman,
Circle Jerks,
Brothers Johnson,
Prince Buster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Toni Rubio,
Colin Newman,
Ultravox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hardrive,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
ABBA,
FM Einheit,
Dorothy Ashby,
10cc,
Clear Light,
Television Personalities,
The Tremeloes,
Vainqueur,
Matthew Halsall,
Cluster,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smoke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
Pagans,
Audionom,
Porter Ricks,
The Cure,
Radiohead,
cv313,
The Monochrome Set,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Selecter,
Alphaville,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.