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 Iceland and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Leonard Cohen to the rap 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Zero Boys,
Cybotron,
The Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Cale,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter and Kerry,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Golliwogs,
The Smoke,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti,
Model 500,
Ponytail,
Royal Trux,
Siglo XX,
Glambeats Corp.,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tubeway Army,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slick Rick,
Motorama,
Scan 7,
Girls At Our Best!,
Silicon Teens,
the Human League,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blake Baxter,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gories,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Flipper,
The Dirtbombs,
Marvin Gaye,
Lalo Schifrin,
Desert Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thompson Twins,
The Grass Roots,
Fugazi,
Section 25,
Radio Birdman,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.