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 Taiwan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anthony Braxton to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Connie Case,
Rod Modell,
Qualms,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scan 7,
Carl Craig,
The Neon Judgement,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deakin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barrington Levy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doobie Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Brand Nubian,
Rotary Connection,
The Last Poets,
Nick Fraelich,
Alton Ellis,
Skaos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Steve Hackett,
Scott Walker,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Smiths,
Terry Callier,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
Bang On A Can,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Barracudas,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pagans,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DNA,
Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry's Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.