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 Antigua and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 Can to the rock 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kayak,
Franke,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
Nirvana,
Henry Cow,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
Minutemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Cymande,
Second Layer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Technova,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Simply Red,
John Holt,
Organ,
Fela Kuti,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Music Machine,
Ossler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
Roger Hodgson,
The Blackbyrds,
Mad Mike,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joensuu 1685,
Ken Boothe,
Sun City Girls,
Schoolly D,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sister Nancy,
Roxy Music,
X-Ray Spex,
E-Dancer,
Godley & Creme,
Cameo,
The Monks,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Sherman,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Wyatt,
Liliput,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Kinks,
The Associates,
Hasil Adkins,
Mr. Review,
MDC,
The Tremeloes,
Oblivians,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.