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 Guatemala and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Sex Pistols to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Swans,
Skaos,
Albert Ayler,
the Slits,
The Young Rascals,
The Searchers,
Franke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
Cheater Slicks,
Essential Logic,
The Monks,
Dark Day,
Saccharine Trust,
Cal Tjader,
David Axelrod,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quando Quango,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moss Icon,
Ludus,
Tubeway Army,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Flash Fearless,
Subhumans,
June Days,
Theoretical Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camouflage,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pole,
UT,
Excepter,
Amazonics,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
the Association,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
The Toasters,
The Evens,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.