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 Tanzania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Jeff Mills,
The Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Malaria!,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
DJ Style,
Byron Stingily,
The Zeros,
The Gap Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Slits,
Wings,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Barracudas,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
This Heat,
The Count Five,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Can,
Bush Tetras,
Audionom,
Spoonie Gee,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sister Nancy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Black Sheep,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharoah Sanders,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Axelrod,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Yazoo,
Hoover,
Neil Young,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
Stereo Dub,
Suicide,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Josef K,
The New Christs,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.