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 Bahamas and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Ash Ra Tempel to the punk 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Shoche,
The Blues Magoos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minutemen,
Smog,
Ultra Naté,
Amazonics,
Magma,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Wake,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Hood,
Tim Buckley,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pagans,
The Buckinghams,
10cc,
Shuggie Otis,
Television Personalities,
This Heat,
Janne Schatter,
the Germs,
X-101,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
A Certain Ratio,
June Days,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ponytail,
CMW,
Unwound,
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Reed,
Ossler,
Bob Dylan,
Jacob Miller,
Black Sheep,
Boredoms,
Kayak,
F. McDonald,
Man Parrish,
The Searchers,
Dennis Brown,
Animal Collective,
The Fall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Babytalk,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.