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 China and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gun Club to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ohio Players,
Stockholm Monsters,
U.S. Maple,
Outsiders,
AZ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
This Heat,
T. Rex,
Bang On A Can,
Scan 7,
Mad Mike,
Blake Baxter,
Rekid,
Jawbox,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeff Lynne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crash Course in Science,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sällskapet,
The Black Dice,
Radio Birdman,
ABBA,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Star Department,
Skaos,
Nik Kershaw,
Magma,
Heaven 17,
China Crisis,
Ultra Naté,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funky Four + One,
Cameo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Symarip,
Sun City Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Don Cherry,
Susan Cadogan,
Tears for Fears,
The Seeds,
The Litter,
The Monks,
Whodini,
June of 44,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
Yellowson,
Buzzcocks,
the Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.