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 Zambia and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 Sam Rivers to the dance 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marc Almond,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rosa Yemen,
Nico,
Gang Green,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Move,
Lindisfarne,
Barbara Tucker,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
Arcadia,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Qualms,
Television Personalities,
48th St. Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
The Durutti Column,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crooked Eye,
Minny Pops,
EPMD,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zapp,
The Evens,
Harmonia,
John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
The Real Kids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deadbeat,
Sixth Finger,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Mars,
Saccharine Trust,
the Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Japan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Technova,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arab on Radar,
DNA,
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.