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 Madagascar and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anthony Braxton to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
LL Cool J,
Gichy Dan,
Oblivians,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Green,
Ultravox,
The Searchers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Teasers,
Chris Corsano,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fugs,
Easy Going,
Radiohead,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Albert Ayler,
Aural Exciters,
Patti Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Enemy,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
Slick Rick,
Slave,
Neil Young,
Darondo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Adolescents,
The Walker Brothers,
the Sonics,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Starr,
Delta 5,
The Busters,
La Düsseldorf,
Hoover,
Eurythmics,
The Vogues,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
Minny Pops,
Susan Cadogan,
Dave Gahan,
Cybotron,
Monolake,
Bobby Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.