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 Rwanda and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Faust 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Sound,
The Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
Mandrill,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sandy B,
Interpol,
PIL,
John Coltrane,
Scrapy,
Fad Gadget,
Albert Ayler,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
48th St. Collective,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Evens,
Pere Ubu,
Con Funk Shun,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Hill,
John Lydon,
Rod Modell,
Q and Not U,
Nirvana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Pretty Things,
The Gories,
The Dirtbombs,
B.T. Express,
Brand Nubian,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Germs,
Radiohead,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
The Techniques,
Gichy Dan,
Monks,
Lungfish,
The Neon Judgement,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Womack,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alison Limerick,
D'Angelo,
Bronski Beat,
Junior Murvin,
Unwound,
Magazine,
Brass Construction,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.