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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 The Vogues to the techno 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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Essential Logic,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
The Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
Kayak,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masters at Work,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joensuu 1685,
the Swans,
Judy Mowatt,
PIL,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Newcleus,
Jawbox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barrington Levy,
Matthew Bourne,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Simply Red,
Maurizio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
The Red Krayola,
The American Breed,
Crime,
Can,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
Cameo,
The Standells,
Ponytail,
The Smiths,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blancmange,
Stereo Dub,
Bob Dylan,
Black Flag,
Angry Samoans,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick Morgan,
Oneida,
Banda Bassotti,
Dawn Penn,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Terry,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.