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 United Kingdom and from Cairo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lyres to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rufus Thomas,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
Archie Shepp,
Godley & Creme,
Dark Day,
Grey Daturas,
Lakeside,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Connie Case,
Deepchord,
The Star Department,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Ituana,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick,
Absolute Body Control,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sarah Menescal,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Audionom,
The Seeds,
the Sonics,
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kenny Larkin,
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
Inner City,
Swans,
Dennis Brown,
The Invisible,
Cameo,
Simply Red,
Drexciya,
Lou Christie,
Theoretical Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Camberwell Now,
Cal Tjader,
The Index,
Alison Limerick,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.