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 Tajikistan and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer 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 Circle Jerks to the rap 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The Invisible,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
DNA,
Mars,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
This Heat,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
China Crisis,
Soft Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
Quadrant,
Model 500,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Evens,
Index,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Green,
Pylon,
Guru Guru,
Nils Olav,
Shuggie Otis,
ABC,
Lou Reed,
Freddie Wadling,
Public Enemy,
Moebius,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Bluetip,
The Leaves,
Subhumans,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Busters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Josef K,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flipper,
The Golliwogs,
Rites of Spring,
Popol Vuh,
The Gladiators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
kango's stein massive,
Pantytec,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Raincoats,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.