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 Botswana and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Techniques to the rock 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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Victims,
Jacques Brel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Silicon Teens,
Piero Umiliani,
The Trojans,
The Leaves,
Susan Cadogan,
Kas Product,
Robert Hood,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
The Searchers,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Matthew Bourne,
Zapp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fall,
Surgeon,
Isaac Hayes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
Pulsallama,
Swans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Move,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
Darondo,
Radio Birdman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Neu!,
Pussy Galore,
Camouflage,
Sparks,
The Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Infiniti,
Niagra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sam Rivers,
Deakin,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
Reagan Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Sonics,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.