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 Armenia and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Duran Duran to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
KRS-One,
Idris Muhammad,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Man Parrish,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
The Birthday Party,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Loose Ends,
Dual Sessions,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Misunderstood,
The New Christs,
Altered Images,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deepchord,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grey Daturas,
Glenn Branca,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Görl,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Graham Central Station,
Cymande,
Rufus Thomas,
Peter & Gordon,
the Normal,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Hill,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Mills,
The Slackers,
Fear,
Fatback Band,
Guru Guru,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Thee Headcoats,
Camouflage,
Rotary Connection,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jacques Brel,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.