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 Albania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 The Blackbyrds to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Todd Rundgren,
Leonard Cohen,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Pus,
Whodini,
Joe Smooth,
Adolescents,
Laurel Aitken,
Carl Craig,
James White and The Blacks,
Toni Rubio,
DJ Sneak,
The Tremeloes,
Franke,
Fat Boys,
Fluxion,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott Heron,
CMW,
June Days,
Stetsasonic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
The Vogues,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Mojo Men,
Depeche Mode,
Sight & Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Silicon Teens,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reuben Wilson,
Interpol,
the Germs,
In Retrospect,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sparks,
Gong,
Jawbox,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
Con Funk Shun,
Henry Cow,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yazoo,
Hasil Adkins,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.