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 Syria and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Tubeway Army to the jazz 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
David Axelrod,
Sällskapet,
Tres Demented,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Star Department,
The Dirtbombs,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Alarm Clocks,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Quando Quango,
The Invisible,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Frankie Knuckles,
Slave,
Deadbeat,
Blancmange,
Bizarre Inc.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ice-T,
Nik Kershaw,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Absolute Body Control,
Deakin,
the Normal,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Section 25,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minor Threat,
Eric Dolphy,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
Icehouse,
UT,
Yazoo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
EPMD,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Don Cherry,
kango's stein massive,
Technova,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Arcadia,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Adolescents,
Matthew Halsall,
Rosa Yemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.