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 Malaysia and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 The Sonics to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Marine Girls,
Don Cherry,
Intrusion,
Ossler,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
Cluster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Byrd,
Japan,
Charles Mingus,
Marvin Gaye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Axelrod,
Skriet,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moleskins,
Hashim,
Crime,
Ohio Players,
Maleditus Sound,
Subhumans,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Hood,
Television,
Donny Hathaway,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Walker Brothers,
The United States of America,
Talk Talk,
Laurel Aitken,
John Holt,
Average White Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Spandau Ballet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moody Blues,
Alton Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
La Düsseldorf,
Drexciya,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scientists,
Section 25,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick Morgan,
Tommy Roe,
Underground Resistance,
Q and Not U,
Goldenarms,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.