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 Tajikistan 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric Copeland to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Pantytec,
John Cale,
Bronski Beat,
Hashim,
Brothers Johnson,
Magma,
Quando Quango,
Alice Coltrane,
the Swans,
Little Man,
Section 25,
Mo-Dettes,
a-ha,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
These Immortal Souls,
The Real Kids,
Rapeman,
John Foxx,
Dennis Brown,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül II,
Q and Not U,
Make Up,
Gichy Dan,
June Days,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Surgeon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Offenders,
Yellowson,
Fluxion,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
The Sonics,
Barrington Levy,
Deepchord,
Stereo Dub,
The Fugs,
Khruangbin,
Neil Young,
Sun City Girls,
Bluetip,
The Star Department,
The Mummies,
X-101,
Robert Görl,
Aaron Thompson,
48th St. Collective,
Television Personalities,
Shuggie Otis,
Dark Day,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cheater Slicks,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.