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 Korea North and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Magma to the rock 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Absolute Body Control,
Arab on Radar,
The Sonics,
Magma,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wolf Eyes,
Outsiders,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marine Girls,
Lalann,
Hot Snakes,
Patti Smith,
John Lydon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
Warren Ellis,
Scott Walker,
Harry Pussy,
Joyce Sims,
Charles Mingus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
John Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Alice Coltrane,
Derrick May,
Masters at Work,
Con Funk Shun,
Pagans,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
Magazine,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joensuu 1685,
Harmonia,
Connie Case,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nico,
Letta Mbulu,
Albert Ayler,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.