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 Fiji and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe 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 Tres Demented to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Pantaleimon,
Todd Rundgren,
Clear Light,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Magma,
Guru Guru,
Gang Starr,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
The United States of America,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
Saccharine Trust,
The Leaves,
The Offenders,
Mission of Burma,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Bill Wells,
Barbara Tucker,
Young Marble Giants,
Scan 7,
The Velvet Underground,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sexual Harrassment,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
A Certain Ratio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Young Rascals,
The Walker Brothers,
Intrusion,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker,
Josef K,
Tres Demented,
Jacques Brel,
The Count Five,
Althea and Donna,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sällskapet,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott Heron,
Graham Central Station,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
Faraquet,
Bobby Womack,
Roger Hodgson,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.