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 Zimbabwe and from Paris.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 Walker Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Altered Images,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Erasure,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
Echospace,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
E-Dancer,
Eric Dolphy,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Susan Cadogan,
Pierre Henry,
Soft Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Porter Ricks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Invisible,
The Move,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arab on Radar,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Buckinghams,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pretty Things,
Nas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ice-T,
Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Simply Red,
Skarface,
the Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zero Boys,
Colin Newman,
Sandy B,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cure,
Slick Rick,
The Gladiators,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Lynne,
cv313,
Vladislav Delay,
Joy Division,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül,
The Kinks,
Piero Umiliani,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hardrive,
Steve Hackett,
Fort Wilson Riot,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.