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 Papua New Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fela Kuti to the electroclash 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Beasts of Bourbon,
These Immortal Souls,
Blake Baxter,
The Happenings,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cluster,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Near,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Roger Hodgson,
Bad Manners,
The Wake,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Aswad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
Morten Harket,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
Pantaleimon,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
Danielle Patucci,
One Last Wish,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Wings,
Theoretical Girls,
The Music Machine,
Eve St. Jones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Halsall,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nils Olav,
Radiohead,
Camberwell Now,
Au Pairs,
Erasure,
Unwound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Visage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.