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 Kyrgyzstan and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Maurizio to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Lower 48,
Kayak,
Boz Scaggs,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
10cc,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Fania All-Stars,
Television,
Peter and Kerry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aaron Thompson,
Darondo,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Guru Guru,
Byron Stingily,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-Ray Spex,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Style,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cowsills,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Curtis Mayfield,
Morten Harket,
Vladislav Delay,
Masters at Work,
Max Romeo,
Sällskapet,
The Associates,
Donald Byrd,
Albert Ayler,
Flipper,
Amon Düül,
Technova,
The Walker Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxy Music,
Quantec,
Mission of Burma,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dark Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Order,
Negative Approach,
Chris & Cosey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.