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 Oman and from Toronto.
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 Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Inner City to the disco 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Ossler,
Parry Music,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rapeman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Ituana,
Silicon Teens,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
Quando Quango,
Shoche,
Sight & Sound,
Alphaville,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Khruangbin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Connie Case,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Supertramp,
The Wake,
Gang Green,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soul II Soul,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warren Ellis,
Aswad,
The Move,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Davy DMX,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
Andrew Hill,
The Kinks,
The Dirtbombs,
Rekid,
Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dead C,
Hasil Adkins,
Barbara Tucker,
the Association,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.