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 Niger and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 D'Angelo to the jazz 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crime,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
Stiv Bators,
Rapeman,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Soft Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Boredoms,
K-Klass,
Icehouse,
T.S.O.L.,
Con Funk Shun,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
The Smoke,
The Pretty Things,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zero Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Martian,
Wings,
Blancmange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
a-ha,
Pole,
Throbbing Gristle,
Organ,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Todd Terry,
Khruangbin,
Davy DMX,
Lou Christie,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Wolf Eyes,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
Prince Buster,
DJ Sneak,
Oneida,
Colin Newman,
Malaria!,
Gang of Four,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Neu!,
Siglo XX,
Section 25,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Erasure,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.