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 Sweden and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Jacques Brel,
Intrusion,
Gregory Isaacs,
Andrew Hill,
Lightning Bolt,
Organ,
The Zeros,
Rites of Spring,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Toni Rubio,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonny Sharrock,
FM Einheit,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Terry,
Mars,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
The Durutti Column,
Pierre Henry,
KRS-One,
The New Christs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Clarke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Simply Red,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Image Ltd.,
Desert Stars,
Nico,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barrington Levy,
Adolescents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skriet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
Radiohead,
Skaos,
Massinfluence,
The Invisible,
Qualms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang On A Can,
Chrome,
Fat Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Lakeside,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker,
New York Dolls,
Y Pants,
Moss Icon,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.