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 Sudan and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Juan Atkins to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers 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?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brothers Johnson,
X-102,
Q65,
Sexual Harrassment,
Porter Ricks,
Susan Cadogan,
The Index,
Thee Headcoats,
Michelle Simonal,
Piero Umiliani,
The J.B.'s,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fela Kuti,
Hoover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Supertramp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Evens,
Absolute Body Control,
The Raincoats,
Youth Brigade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Godley & Creme,
Flash Fearless,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Niagra,
Black Bananas,
Carl Craig,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magazine,
Suburban Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Judy Mowatt,
Fatback Band,
Tres Demented,
U.S. Maple,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
Patti Smith,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agitation Free,
Gabor Szabo,
JFA,
Subhumans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
Lower 48,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Buckinghams,
Electric Prunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Mantronix,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.