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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Cheater Slicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Selecter,
June Days,
Sister Nancy,
Tom Boy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Trumans Water,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Pretty Things,
Young Marble Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
Pantytec,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Slick Rick,
EPMD,
D'Angelo,
Howard Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Inner City,
Icehouse,
Basic Channel,
Interpol,
The Vogues,
Arcadia,
Kaleidoscope,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slits,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
Stetsasonic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cal Tjader,
Ultravox,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Clarke,
Marine Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Lightning Bolt,
Bill Near,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Count Five,
DNA,
E-Dancer,
Hardrive,
ABBA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Can,
Laurel Aitken,
Maurizio,
Hasil Adkins,
New Age Steppers,
Swell Maps,
Gabor Szabo,
Alphaville,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.