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 Poland and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Moby Grape to the grunge 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Iggy Pop,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Unrelated Segments,
The Dead C,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
The Searchers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Pretty Things,
Matthew Bourne,
Brand Nubian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Bananas,
Masters at Work,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Toni Rubio,
Eddi Front,
The Stooges,
Clear Light,
Mission of Burma,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
Stetsasonic,
Aaron Thompson,
Minutemen,
Susan Cadogan,
D'Angelo,
Scientists,
The Sonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cheater Slicks,
Cymande,
Andrew Hill,
EPMD,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
Section 25,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacob Miller,
The Index,
Public Enemy,
Surgeon,
Charles Mingus,
Archie Shepp,
John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Oblivians,
ABC,
The Leaves,
Zero Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Alphaville,
Ohio Players,
New Order,
Tommy Roe,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.