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 Brunei 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Dorothy Ashby to the punk 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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Hashim,
Delon & Dalcan,
K-Klass,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ituana,
The Mojo Men,
Warsaw,
Arthur Verocai,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Zeros,
Ronan,
Jawbox,
Howard Jones,
Rod Modell,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Surgeon,
Malaria!,
Pantaleimon,
Flipper,
The Walker Brothers,
Ludus,
Terry Callier,
The Durutti Column,
Mars,
Boz Scaggs,
Supertramp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gories,
Lungfish,
MC5,
Pantytec,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jandek,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Scrapy,
Aural Exciters,
Ponytail,
Television,
Sandy B,
Mission of Burma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
E-Dancer,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hot Snakes,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.