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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Fela Kuti,
Minutemen,
Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grauzone,
Schoolly D,
Fatback Band,
The Red Krayola,
Gabor Szabo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dual Sessions,
the Soft Cell,
Rosa Yemen,
Dead Boys,
the Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Animal Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Negative Approach,
Tres Demented,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Machine,
Q65,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Aaron Thompson,
Rites of Spring,
Jacob Miller,
Procol Harum,
The Velvet Underground,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tomorrow,
Tommy Roe,
Laurel Aitken,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
Lightning Bolt,
Wasted Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Sight & Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Görl,
Cameo,
The Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
FM Einheit,
David Axelrod,
Ken Boothe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.