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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Patti Smith,
Newcleus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
The Smiths,
Average White Band,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
The Beau Brummels,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
ABBA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
Visage,
Skaos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pantaleimon,
The Slackers,
Siglo XX,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Iggy Pop,
Qualms,
Danielle Patucci,
Flipper,
Ossler,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
Camouflage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brick,
The Toasters,
The Cure,
Intrusion,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barry Ungar,
Howard Jones,
JFA,
Johnny Osbourne,
Arab on Radar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-102,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sällskapet,
the Germs,
Tommy Roe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Shuggie Otis,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Clarke,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter and Kerry,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.