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 Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Prunes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Tears for Fears,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bob Dylan,
Adolescents,
Lakeside,
Jacques Brel,
Susan Cadogan,
The Offenders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Technova,
Cecil Taylor,
Fatback Band,
New Order,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
Faust,
Nik Kershaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erasure,
Das Ding,
Skriet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moebius,
Porter Ricks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
Jacob Miller,
48th St. Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Lungfish,
Mars,
Jawbox,
The Seeds,
Arcadia,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
Sällskapet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ludus,
Little Man,
John Lydon,
Zero Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
Niagra,
Boredoms,
Mad Mike,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James White and The Blacks,
Prince Buster,
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
Desert Stars,
the Human League,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.