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 Singapore and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
DJ Sneak,
Unrelated Segments,
Accadde A,
Sarah Menescal,
Harry Pussy,
Black Pus,
OOIOO,
Lungfish,
Ultra Naté,
Dennis Brown,
Pantytec,
Patti Smith,
Funkadelic,
Depeche Mode,
Excepter,
Dark Day,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
The Motions,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Blues Magoos,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Mandrill,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Rotary Connection,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Cameo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erasure,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Khruangbin,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
LL Cool J,
Robert Görl,
Jacob Miller,
Pagans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tubeway Army,
Boz Scaggs,
JFA,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yellowson,
Suicide,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.