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 Portugal and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Glambeats Corp. to the techno 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Associates,
Marmalade,
The Fortunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
the Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Ohio Players,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faust,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül II,
Aloha Tigers,
Make Up,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Skriet,
One Last Wish,
Vladislav Delay,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Adolescents,
Warsaw,
The Mummies,
Davy DMX,
Pussy Galore,
Moby Grape,
the Sonics,
Groovy Waters,
Jeff Mills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sonics,
E-Dancer,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Loose Ends,
The Techniques,
Gong,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bush Tetras,
Smog,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
Pantaleimon,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Simply Red,
Sound Behaviour,
Q and Not U,
Niagra,
Trumans Water,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.