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 Tanzania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 These Immortal Souls to the disco 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Heaven 17,
Youth Brigade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Moon,
Brick,
Neil Young,
Tim Buckley,
Ten City,
June Days,
Al Stewart,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Martian,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Motorama,
Connie Case,
Ossler,
Severed Heads,
The Smiths,
Vladislav Delay,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fugazi,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
The Litter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Can,
Lalo Schifrin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sällskapet,
Rotary Connection,
Qualms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marvin Gaye,
The Golliwogs,
Aloha Tigers,
Fad Gadget,
The Techniques,
Funky Four + One,
Average White Band,
The Trojans,
The Monks,
Guru Guru,
Jesper Dahlback,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Womack,
Jeru the Damaja,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.