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 Ethiopia and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 the Soft Cell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Deepchord,
Kayak,
the Swans,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
Anakelly,
Loose Ends,
The Cowsills,
Harmonia,
Radio Birdman,
Guru Guru,
Quantec,
Fela Kuti,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Fraelich,
Jacques Brel,
The Searchers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Don Cherry,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley,
Supertramp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The J.B.'s,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dead Boys,
David McCallum,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Human League,
the Normal,
Robert Wyatt,
Siglo XX,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Juan Atkins,
Joy Division,
Ronnie Foster,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
Babytalk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DNA,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ituana,
48th St. Collective,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
Amazonics,
The Skatalites,
The Doors,
Deakin,
Eve St. Jones,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.