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 Montenegro and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Juan Atkins to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Quando Quango,
Yaz,
Warren Ellis,
Dennis Brown,
Piero Umiliani,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Basic Channel,
Camouflage,
Fela Kuti,
the Sonics,
The Five Americans,
Pere Ubu,
Moebius,
kango's stein massive,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
Agent Orange,
Con Funk Shun,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Archie Shepp,
June Days,
Cal Tjader,
The Litter,
Delta 5,
Black Pus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nico,
These Immortal Souls,
Reuben Wilson,
Von Mondo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radio Birdman,
Joensuu 1685,
The Wake,
Erasure,
Ludus,
Infiniti,
Crooked Eye,
Anthony Braxton,
Isaac Hayes,
The Young Rascals,
Mandrill,
Gang of Four,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Minutemen,
Stereo Dub,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Silicon Teens,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gun Club,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pop Group,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Main Source,
The Dead C,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.