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 Romania and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 X-101 to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
Malaria!,
Babytalk,
Ten City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxette,
the Association,
Cymande,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott Heron,
X-101,
Tubeway Army,
The Monks,
Marine Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The American Breed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Selecter,
Neu!,
Y Pants,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Names,
World's Most,
Gichy Dan,
Kerrie Biddell,
EPMD,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
Sällskapet,
Angry Samoans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quando Quango,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ohio Players,
the Swans,
Bad Manners,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Motorama,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Grass Roots,
The Black Dice,
The Alarm Clocks,
These Immortal Souls,
Flipper,
Sixth Finger,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.