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 Indonesia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator 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 Freddie Wadling to the grime 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Tim Buckley,
The Dirtbombs,
The Offenders,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
The Mummies,
JFA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spandau Ballet,
Chrome,
The Standells,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gong,
The Leaves,
Yusef Lateef,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Hood,
John Foxx,
Tres Demented,
Delta 5,
Electric Prunes,
B.T. Express,
T. Rex,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Agent Orange,
Sarah Menescal,
Fluxion,
AZ,
Josef K,
Marc Almond,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Rotary Connection,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
UT,
Sugar Minott,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
The Martian,
Idris Muhammad,
U.S. Maple,
Hasil Adkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
LL Cool J,
Maurizio,
Agitation Free,
Cybotron,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.