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 Lesotho and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the crunk 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
Piero Umiliani,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
X-Ray Spex,
Popol Vuh,
Wasted Youth,
the Germs,
Suicide,
Albert Ayler,
The Real Kids,
The Searchers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Monolake,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
Moby Grape,
Drexciya,
Whodini,
June Days,
Skriet,
The Five Americans,
The Toasters,
Mad Mike,
Nils Olav,
Can,
Oneida,
Young Marble Giants,
Donald Byrd,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Suburban Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Erasure,
Soul II Soul,
The Count Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
UT,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wings,
Magazine,
the Association,
Cluster,
New Age Steppers,
Second Layer,
The Names,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cramps,
Crispian St. Peters,
KRS-One,
Silicon Teens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Iggy Pop,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.