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 Spain and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Organ to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magazine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Iggy Pop,
Junior Murvin,
Arcadia,
Johnny Osbourne,
Infiniti,
Leonard Cohen,
T. Rex,
Aural Exciters,
Animal Collective,
kango's stein massive,
Aswad,
The Index,
Ronan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marmalade,
Graham Central Station,
The Blackbyrds,
Das Ding,
Porter Ricks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
ABBA,
Quando Quango,
Joensuu 1685,
Crooked Eye,
Mr. Review,
Tom Boy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Charles Mingus,
Pantaleimon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Tubeway Army,
Rotary Connection,
Byron Stingily,
Symarip,
The Buckinghams,
The Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Style,
Little Man,
John Holt,
Blancmange,
X-101,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maurizio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Order,
Electric Prunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minnie Riperton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Silicon Teens,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.