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 Chad and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cluster to the electroclash 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Ludus,
DNA,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erasure,
The Cowsills,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alton Ellis,
Lightning Bolt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
ABC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
Schoolly D,
Flipper,
Ronnie Foster,
Can,
Aloha Tigers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marvin Gaye,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Red Krayola,
Blossom Toes,
Warren Ellis,
Chrome,
X-Ray Spex,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Black Dice,
Barry Ungar,
Subhumans,
Faraquet,
Matthew Halsall,
Fear,
Deepchord,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Sheep,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Kayak,
Stockholm Monsters,
Josef K,
Suburban Knight,
Maurizio,
Procol Harum,
Stiv Bators,
Wire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joey Negro,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.