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 Slovakia and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erykah Badu to the disco 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
kango's stein massive,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
Chris Corsano,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Laurel Aitken,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-102,
The Fire Engines,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
Soft Machine,
The Moody Blues,
Audionom,
Swell Maps,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy Collins,
Tomorrow,
Inner City,
The Leaves,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cameo,
Urselle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Outsiders,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
FM Einheit,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roger Hodgson,
Little Man,
Kayak,
Minny Pops,
Guru Guru,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Barracudas,
Severed Heads,
Oblivians,
Faust,
Barrington Levy,
Rekid,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
Royal Trux,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Style,
Malaria!,
Young Marble Giants,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
Bill Wells,
Clear Light,
Moebius,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.