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 Tunisia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare 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 Monks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Make Up,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joy Division,
Ossler,
John Foxx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Junior Murvin,
E-Dancer,
Ronan,
Lalann,
Blossom Toes,
Chrome,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Funkadelic,
Whodini,
Fatback Band,
Interpol,
Heaven 17,
Supertramp,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
Neu!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
Connie Case,
Royal Trux,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
Ultravox,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brothers Johnson,
Japan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Icehouse,
Todd Terry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeff Lynne,
Khruangbin,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Real Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Copeland,
Piero Umiliani,
Eurythmics,
Nirvana,
Quantec,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Negative Approach,
the Association,
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.