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 United Kingdom and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Archie Shepp to the electroclash 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
New Order,
Barclay James Harvest,
OOIOO,
Sex Pistols,
Aswad,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funkadelic,
Bang On A Can,
June Days,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jerry's Kids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Suicide,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Human League,
Steve Hackett,
Rod Modell,
Peter & Gordon,
T.S.O.L.,
John Lydon,
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Youth Brigade,
Khruangbin,
The Fuzztones,
Ornette Coleman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bad Manners,
The Moody Blues,
R.M.O.,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Misunderstood,
Moebius,
Second Layer,
Fear,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Duran Duran,
Drexciya,
The Associates,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camberwell Now,
Rotary Connection,
The Music Machine,
Jawbox,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
Bobby Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Wings,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rakim,
John Cale,
Nils Olav,
Alison Limerick,
Hardrive,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.