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 Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the Swans to the grunge 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gun Club,
Sam Rivers,
The Blues Magoos,
Franke,
The Five Americans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
Kurtis Blow,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
Neu!,
The Cramps,
The Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
Altered Images,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Massinfluence,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bluetip,
Althea and Donna,
Man Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Tremeloes,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Prince Buster,
Cameo,
Amon Düül II,
Bush Tetras,
Letta Mbulu,
Nas,
Hasil Adkins,
Lakeside,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Görl,
Vladislav Delay,
Unwound,
Mission of Burma,
Excepter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joyce Sims,
Icehouse,
DNA,
Matthew Bourne,
The Barracudas,
Inner City,
Tubeway Army,
Moby Grape,
Tears for Fears,
Mars,
MC5,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.