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 Swaziland and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Tears for Fears,
The Velvet Underground,
David McCallum,
The Blackbyrds,
Franke,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Doors,
The Real Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Coltrane,
New Order,
MC5,
Ludus,
Joe Finger,
The Motions,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four,
Accadde A,
Gang Starr,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
Excepter,
Camouflage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Busters,
Banda Bassotti,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Oblivians,
The Red Krayola,
Bizarre Inc.,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül,
These Immortal Souls,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
Bluetip,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Copeland,
Hasil Adkins,
Pere Ubu,
Chris & Cosey,
Amazonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neu!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Kayak,
Lou Reed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.