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 Luxembourg and from Sao Paulo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Derrick Morgan to the rock 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Oneida,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Steve Hackett,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Severed Heads,
Reagan Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang of Four,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets,
Index,
Lou Christie,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Knickerbockers,
X-101,
The Fortunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monks,
ABC,
Porter Ricks,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Music Machine,
The Slits,
Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
Hashim,
B.T. Express,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gichy Dan,
Deakin,
Connie Case,
cv313,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Kaleidoscope,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Letta Mbulu,
Funky Four + One,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
Tres Demented,
Stiv Bators,
Lalann,
Alphaville,
Nils Olav,
The Residents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.