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 Malta and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pierre Henry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion 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?
Fugazi,
The Selecter,
John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Grauzone,
Alton Ellis,
Nils Olav,
Barrington Levy,
Max Romeo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Y Pants,
Hashim,
Lou Christie,
Masters at Work,
Terry Callier,
Nico,
Inner City,
Fear,
Technova,
Bauhaus,
Ituana,
Half Japanese,
Joe Smooth,
Archie Shepp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Camberwell Now,
Metal Thangz,
Michelle Simonal,
Excepter,
The Moleskins,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ornette Coleman,
Motorama,
The Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Donny Hathaway,
Japan,
Lungfish,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Soft Cell,
Bush Tetras,
The Evens,
Sparks,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
Magazine,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers,
Iggy Pop,
FM Einheit,
Bootsy Collins,
Agitation Free,
Aaron Thompson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pantytec,
The Blues Magoos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.