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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Eli Mardock,
The Pop Group,
Accadde A,
Ten City,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
Amazonics,
The Motions,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Radiopuhelimet,
Matthew Bourne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tim Buckley,
ABC,
Marshall Jefferson,
New York Dolls,
Excepter,
Darondo,
the Normal,
The Red Krayola,
UT,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Maurizio,
Black Flag,
Delta 5,
Bob Dylan,
kango's stein massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
Peter & Gordon,
Todd Terry,
Deadbeat,
Mandrill,
Nico,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dual Sessions,
Prince Buster,
Terry Callier,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Grass Roots,
Kurtis Blow,
Rufus Thomas,
Scan 7,
Soulsonic Force,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boredoms,
Kas Product,
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Hot Snakes,
FM Einheit,
Alice Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.