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 Sweden and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wings to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Colin Newman,
Von Mondo,
Scratch Acid,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
Isaac Hayes,
The Move,
MC5,
Roxy Music,
Patti Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deadbeat,
This Heat,
Faraquet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Saccharine Trust,
Minutemen,
The Cure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Remains,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris Corsano,
ABBA,
Aloha Tigers,
Dave Gahan,
Scientists,
Gastr Del Sol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
The Cramps,
The Motions,
Anthony Braxton,
Yellowson,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wire,
Bush Tetras,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Scion,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tim Buckley,
Bootsy Collins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wally Richardson,
Magazine,
The Slits,
The Toasters,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
Janne Schatter,
Parry Music,
Joey Negro,
Charles Mingus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Icehouse,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.