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 Australia and from Cairo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rock 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Jandek,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
Fear,
David McCallum,
Ohio Players,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
Bang On A Can,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
Mo-Dettes,
Junior Murvin,
The Selecter,
a-ha,
Cecil Taylor,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Animal Collective,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quadrant,
Ponytail,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
Shuggie Otis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tom Boy,
Scion,
Ronan,
the Human League,
Fatback Band,
Guru Guru,
The Smiths,
The Young Rascals,
Reuben Wilson,
Barry Ungar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Residents,
Bob Dylan,
Warsaw,
Goldenarms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Cell,
June Days,
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pierre Henry,
Ludus,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.