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 Taipei.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the techno 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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Avey Tare,
Television,
Tres Demented,
Tom Boy,
Average White Band,
Hashim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sugar Minott,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Görl,
The Gories,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Subhumans,
Morten Harket,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sandy B,
Sam Rivers,
Ken Boothe,
Liliput,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brass Construction,
Amazonics,
Joey Negro,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
Anakelly,
Todd Terry,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
The Count Five,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
Max Romeo,
Thee Headcoats,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
David Bowie,
Echospace,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy Collins,
Nirvana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Foxx,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eddi Front,
R.M.O.,
Scrapy,
Lungfish,
Angry Samoans,
The Seeds,
Grey Daturas,
Make Up,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.