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 Taiwan and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flash Fearless,
Sarah Menescal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Surgeon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Los Fastidios,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hoover,
Trumans Water,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Womack,
the Swans,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Christie,
Connie Case,
Barry Ungar,
DNA,
Laurel Aitken,
Main Source,
B.T. Express,
Simply Red,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Sandy B,
Skriet,
Prince Buster,
Royal Trux,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Mission of Burma,
Isaac Hayes,
Second Layer,
Gang of Four,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ice-T,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tim Buckley,
The Cosmic Jokers,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
Basic Channel,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
kango's stein massive,
Curtis Mayfield,
Buzzcocks,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Drexciya,
Sonic Youth,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
Eden Ahbez,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.