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 Lyon.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 The Young Rascals to the crunk 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
Black Flag,
Gregory Isaacs,
Warren Ellis,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crooked Eye,
Pagans,
Aural Exciters,
The Human League,
Al Stewart,
The Young Rascals,
Marine Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blossom Toes,
The Offenders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
Howard Jones,
John Foxx,
The Cramps,
CMW,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
The Pretty Things,
L. Decosne,
Blake Baxter,
Talk Talk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Panda Bear,
Agitation Free,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zero Boys,
Morten Harket,
Scott Walker,
Symarip,
Index,
Laurel Aitken,
Sonic Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
kango's stein massive,
Patti Smith,
Subhumans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ornette Coleman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Public Enemy,
Lucky Dragons,
Gastr Del Sol,
Intrusion,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
The Trojans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.