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 Denmark and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
The Pop Group,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Whodini,
Deadbeat,
Yusef Lateef,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
Blancmange,
JFA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bauhaus,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
Mantronix,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Wyatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kas Product,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harmonia,
Wally Richardson,
a-ha,
Hasil Adkins,
Pere Ubu,
The Moody Blues,
Juan Atkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dirtbombs,
Banda Bassotti,
kango's stein massive,
These Immortal Souls,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Fear,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
Kenny Larkin,
Cameo,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barrington Levy,
Amazonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ronan,
The Golliwogs,
Dual Sessions,
the Soft Cell,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Goldenarms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.