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 Kiribati and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 Clear Light to the crunk 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
The Zeros,
Duran Duran,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
The Kinks,
The Standells,
Bobby Womack,
The Cramps,
David Axelrod,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wire,
Electric Prunes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bad Manners,
The Searchers,
Kayak,
Jeru the Damaja,
Flash Fearless,
Little Man,
E-Dancer,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
Patti Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Schoolly D,
Sixth Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Technova,
Marvin Gaye,
Bauhaus,
Black Pus,
Mars,
Johnny Clarke,
R.M.O.,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Almond,
MDC,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scientists,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Sonics,
Funky Four + One,
Minutemen,
Qualms,
Ituana,
Excepter,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.