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 France and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Charles Mingus to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
Scratch Acid,
Make Up,
James White and The Blacks,
Faraquet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Interpol,
Smog,
Cymande,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fear,
Marc Almond,
Colin Newman,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeff Lynne,
LL Cool J,
Ultra Naté,
Japan,
Dave Gahan,
Visage,
Quadrant,
The Searchers,
Y Pants,
Silicon Teens,
This Heat,
Jerry's Kids,
Trumans Water,
The Walker Brothers,
Animal Collective,
Television,
Roger Hodgson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yaz,
Soft Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
David McCallum,
Sugar Minott,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fire Engines,
Zapp,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Das Ding,
The Smoke,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nico,
Babytalk,
Audionom,
Television Personalities,
The Misunderstood,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.