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 Zambia and from Tehran.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Arcadia to the grunge 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Cluster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Groovy Waters,
Quando Quango,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monochrome Set,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-102,
The Last Poets,
48th St. Collective,
Aswad,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
World's Most,
Rakim,
Ossler,
Kenny Larkin,
Nirvana,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tim Buckley,
Morten Harket,
Michelle Simonal,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
The Residents,
Amazonics,
The Young Rascals,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Near,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Camouflage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Henry Cow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Janne Schatter,
Radiohead,
T.S.O.L.,
Guru Guru,
Slick Rick,
Brick,
The Doors,
Icehouse,
Black Flag,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monks,
John Holt,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neu!,
The Smoke,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.